Sealskin
by Loupee
Summary: AU. In the cold north folklore told of shape shifters who lived both within the ocean waters and walked on land. Peeta believed they were just a thing of childhood stories until a fateful encounter. Years later he is drawn into the world of a girl with uncanny similarities whose past and future are interwoven with those of the creatures. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Selkies are mythological creatures found in Scottish, Irish and Icelandic folklore. Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. Selkies in their human form as beautiful women or handsome men are very alluring to humans. _

_As far as I know folklore doesn't mention them having siren like powers to lure men to their deaths with their songs, but for the purposes of this story they do. So apologies to anyone who takes offense for the liberties I've taken with Selkie myths._

Chapter 1

Peeta hauled himself up the steps gripping the rope as he staggered on deck. He half fell across the slippery decking with the harsh wind whipping in his face. He strained to see the horizon, cupping his hand to his brow in a futile attempt to keep the sea spray out of his eyes.

He could just make out the sight of the lighthouse against the dark shapes that he knew to be the cliffs of home, but instead of heeding their warning the boat seemed to be turned in the direction of the rocks. Only a mad man would set a course for them. They had been the ruin of hundreds of ships and the death of more men than anyone wanted to remember before the lighthouse had been built. His uncle was no fool, he'd made this journey twice a month, every month since he took over running the ferryboat and before that had accompanied his father on the journey from the time he was old enough to let go of his mother's apron strings. His uncle knew the dangers and would never consciously set such a course. It was clear that something was very wrong. They were going to die.

Frozen in fear Peeta became aware of something else_**.**_ Over the cry of the wind, the battering of the water against the hull and the crash of the waves as they breached the side and hit the deck, another noise was clearly audible. Everything about its nature should have made hearing it an impossibility. Yet above the deafening fury of the storm, a delicate beautiful song could clearly be heard. It was the most entrancing voice, soft and ethereal carrying across the water. Although the shanty was of a foreign tongue Peeta instantly understood that it offered an unquestionable promise of relief and safety from the harm of the raging sea around him. The fear was washed away and he felt a calming surge of comfort flow through him.

He was finally broken from the trance as the ferry pitched and he was thrown into the freezing water.

The waves pounded him from every direction, the black of the sky and the sea became one as he was dragged and tossed, lungs full of water, rolling in blindness. He cried out for help, to his uncle, to God, to anyone who would save him but his screams were swallowed into the waves. As the sea took him under one last time and he felt a strange peace in the quiet that the depths offered compared to the violence of the surface, he felt a sudden regret that he would miss his birthday next week. His father had promised to make him a fishing rod, not a hand me down from his brothers but an actual new one made only for him. An irrational and ironic thought he realised as he was now sinking to the depths in the very waters he would have been fishing in.

And just as he reconciled himself with this being his last thought he became aware of a rising feeling as if being pushed to the surface. He wondered if this was what it felt like for your spirit to depart the body and rise to the sky. But before he could consider this point further he felt the cold spray hit his face and he took a rattling spitting breath, coughing and burning as the air entered his body. Something smooth was beneath his arm propelling him forward. Someone was rescuing him. He linked his arms around them, holding on tight. He saw the white peaks crashing against the dark outlines and realised that whoever it was was towing him towards the rocks. He feared that they would be dashed into them and smashed to pieces but instead they skillfully navigated the surf to reach a smooth rock. He was nudged forward and pushed upwards. He had just enough time to register that it was not a person working him out of the water at all but a seal_**. **_Coughing and gasping he rolled onto his side curling into a ball, his eyes began to close when he heard the song again_**.**_ On opening his eyes he found he was looking into the face of the loveliest woman he had ever seen. Her long dark hair framed her face and she gazed down at him kindly with the deep dark eyes. She wore a sad smile as she brushed his hair away from his face and rolled him over. She shushed him, in a sweet calming melodic fashion and he felt the same wave of security he'd experienced on the boat return. He had no doubt that she was the one responsible for the earlier music.

"How old are you boy?" her voice sang soft and clear above the clamour of the ocean.

"Nearly 13"

"Too young to be a man."

"I'm no child," he said with childish indignation.

"Shush, you should be in no rush to see childhood end.

"My son was only 10" she continued sadly. She was silent for some time whilst she gently stroked his cheek with her surprisingly warm fingers, deep in thought, until she finally whispered "Too young to die." Peeta was unsure if she still spoke of her son or whether she was referring to him and a shiver ran through his body.

"What are you?" he asked.

She laughed and it was an unearthly sound, although it was too bitter to be truly beautiful it was still one of the most enticing sounds he had every encountered.

"Have they forgotten us so soon?" She mused, her smile disappearing.

"Come" she said breaking from her reverie "I must return you 'fore you catch your death of cold or I have a change of heart" and with that she slipped them both back into the cold water, the blackness of the ocean and the sky once again engulfed them. Whilst Peeta tightened his grip around what had been her shoulders he knew instantly that it was not the skin of a woman that he felt beneath his hands. Once again he was being towed by the strong body of the animal.

He was pulled effortlessly through the waves until they reached the beach, where only this morning his uncle's boat had put out to sea and he felt the solid mass of pebbles beneath him.

"Here" said the woman dragging him across the smooth stones until he was clear of the waterline. "When they ask how it is you live. Tell them you owe your life to Selkie. And they would do well to remember us."

And with that she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Katniss. Katniss' someone, she knew exactly who, was shaking her shoulder with increasing urgency. "Come on, wake up it's nearly midnight."

She groaned and tried to roll over but the attack on her shoulder continued. "Please you promised," her sister Primrose whined "come on I've got everything ready."

Katniss let out an exaggerated sigh "Alright, I'm awake." She yawned deeply and stretched before slipping her legs out of bed, she winced as her bare feet touched the cold floor.

"Here" with a self satisfied grin her sister handed her some woolen socks, pleased with herself that she had thought of everything.

"OK Prim so what exactly is it you want me to do?"

Primrose moaned, "You know exactly what to do."

"Remind me."

"Well, Aelwensaid that first you need to make sure you peel the skin of the apple making sure not to break the skin. Like this." Prim held up the length of apple skin that she had prepared before waking her sister. Katniss grabbed the knife and red apple from the top of the dresser. "Be careful" warned Prim "I only got two." Katniss, didn't want to think right now what necessity they would go without this week that Prim had substituted for the non-important fruits.

"Careful!"

"I am being careful, it would be a lot easier if you just let me get on with it and stop breathing down my neck." Prim made an apologetic face and took a step back.

"There now, I've finished and all in one piece. See" Katniss held up the long snake of apple peel.

"Right", Prim instructed "Aelwen says you have to stand with your back to the mirror and then you toss the skin over your left shoulder. Stop! We can't do it yet we have to wait for midnight." Primrose shot an annoyed look at her if this last part were obvious.

Katniss let out an exasperated huff. She was cold and tired and wanted to get back into bed, but she knew Primrose had been looking forward to this all hallows eve tradition for weeks.

"Quick" her sisters excited face turned back to her from where she had been watching the clock, "the hour is about to strike."

Prim quickly scooted over so that they stood side by side with their backs to the mirror.

"As soon as the clock starts to strike midnight, toss it over your shoulder."

Katniss snuck a quick amused look at her little sister. The younger girl looked as if she would burst from excitement and she could tell that she was holding her breath in anticipation.

They heard the clock strike and at that moment both tossed the peels over their left shoulder, before turning to look at where they had landed on the floor.

"How do we tell whose is whose?" asked Katniss.

"This is mine, do you see if has more yellow in the skin. What do you think it says Katniss. Does it look like a R to you?"

Katniss knew that her sister wanted the peel to fall into the shape of the first letter of the youngest Hawthorne brother. She often caught Prim stealing glances at him when she thought no one else could see.

Truthfully Prim's peel didn't look like any letter of the alphabet that she was familiar with. She wasn't sure if she should encourage her sister's belief in this trickery or not. Katniss believed her sister was too young to be caught up in daydreams about boys. Prim was still a child and had more than enough time to catch a husband. Not that she would have any trouble with that. Primrose was good natured, kind and truly one of the prettiest girls the area.

"Yes, I think you're right its definitely an R." she nodded, resigned to the knowledge that if she didn't agree her sister would be heartbroken and unlikely to let the matter rest until next year when she would make them repeat the whole process again.

"I knew it" Prim squealed with a delighted clap of her hands.

Satisfied with her outcome she turned her attention to Katniss' peel. Standing over it they looked down. "It doesn't look like a letter at all, if anything it looks like a 9. Perhaps I'll take 9 lovers instead of marrying my one true love" Katniss laughed.

"Katniss, don't even joke about such a thing. What if someone heard you?"

"Let them" she shrugged "what difference would it make. I'm already too _different_ for any of the mothers' precious sons round here anyway." She was all too aware of what people thought of her and her dark colouring that neither matched that of her mother nor her father.

She was broken from her thoughts by Prim's gasp "Look Katniss" she said grabbing her arm. With the other hand she pointed at the apple skin's reflection in the mirror. "Look, we had it wrong. Its not a number 9 but a perfect letter P."

Katniss stared at the image in the mirror, Prim was right. Prim was already trying to recall if any of the boys in their village or the neighbouring islands had names beginning with P, but Katniss could only think of one. The boy who used to come on the delivery ferry, before the night of the accident. She had rarely thought of him since. It had been over two years since the accident and she had not seen him since. But tonight she saw him in her minds eye as clear as day, only not as the child she had known but as the man that she knew he would be one day.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't the first time she'd had the dream. The first time it had come to her had been the very first All Hallow's Eve right after Prim's trick with the apple peels. Then over the years it had become a recurring part of her life. A few slight nuances over time, but the essence was the same. She always had the most wonderful feeling of freedom; she was swimming in the ocean, which in truth was one of her favourite pass times, but in the dream her swimming ability surpassed that of reality, she would deftly dive to the bottom and skim along the rocks and sand there, not having to worry about how long she was holding her breath. The salt water had no affect on her, she could keep her eyes open without them smarting and could hear clearly. As she swam beneath the sea she could hear the most wondrous voices, a beautiful choir that called her and urged her to swim deeper and further from the shore_**. **_

Eventually she would surface to take a breath and then as she looked back she would realise how far from land she was. Suddenly the calm feeling that had encompassed her was gone, she felt the panic rising as she spun around trying to gain her bearings. But all was dark; it was suddenly night when previously the sunlight had been dancing on the waves. Now the sky and the sea seemed to meld together as one and she searched frantically for the outline of the cliffs and rocks that marked the way home. She cried out for help, but she couldn't find her voice. The swell and the current kept pulling and pushing and then a tight grip around her ankle started to drag her under. Again she tried to scream as she fought and kicked although this time she was able to shout out, what came from her mouth was astrange inhuman voice that was not her own. Then just as she thought all was lost she would see it. A faint beacon, a low lighthouse that guided her. She was able to break free from whatever held her in the water and she sped through the white peaks towards her light. When finally she found herself against the old wharf it was clear that there was no lighthouse_**. **_Instead there stood a boy_**. **_The light that had guided her. It was not as if he glowed or emitted light as such but instead it was as if the darkness of the night that should have surrounded him simply did not exist. Like a pencil sketch, the dark night around him had been rubbed out allowing the light back in. He was a bright point of hope within an empty starless night. He reached down and pulled her from the cold water. She felt unmistakably safe wrapped in his arms as he soothed her. She shivered in her nakedness, instinctively she leant into him as his warm hand slid down her back and she felt his heat pressed hard against her skin. And just as his name escaped her in a soft moan she would wake to find herself in her bed, disorientated and shaken, Peeta's name still on her lips.

Today as always the dream had left her unsettled, and there could not have been a worse day for it, today she needed her wits about her and a steady hand. Last night had been the first night she had ever spent away from her childhood home, the first night she had spent sleeping without her sister tucked in beside her_. _Instead she had shared a room with two other girls in the boarding housethat was now home. Today would be her first day of work. With it she knew came a new stage of her life and an end to youthful freedom. From now on she would be working long hours, six days a week but since her father had died food was scarce at home and her mother was in no fit state to find paid employment. So it fell on her shoulders to keep them out of the workhouse. After all she was no longer a child, she was 17 and lucky to have made it this far without having to find fulltime work outside the home. Some of the girls at school had left at 14.

Her life now was to be working in the fish yards, waiting for the daily catches to come in. She would join the crews of women who gutted the lucrative herring catch preparing them and packing them into barrels bound for rich southern markets. Being new she would be paid less, but if she worked hard and learnt to prepare the fish with speed she could expect to be on a full wage by the end of the season. She didn't like to think of what would happen at the end of the season, she only hoped that she would have saved enough money to get them through the harsh winter.

She had been given a sharp knife, the cost of which would be deducted from her first pay packet, and stood in front of a long deep trough. She was glad she wasn't tall as the trough stood low and the women were bent over to work. Still she was sure her back would be sore in the morning. She was shown the correct way to twist and slice down the belly of the fish to rid it of its guts, the innards where thrown into a bucket behind whilst the cleaned fish was made ready to pack into barrels. The job was dirty, smelly, hours of standing on your feet and bent over the trough to work. But that wasn't the worst of it. Even the most experienced of gutters cut themselves from time to time, but she as a novice found herself almost constantly causing nicks and slices in her fingers. The brine added salt to the wounds and made them sting like hell.

Katniss tried to work faster but the biting pain in her fingers, the cold water and the slipperiness of the fish meant she just couldn't keep up with the more experienced women. She knew that she would only be paid for how much work she could complete and she desperately needed that money. The situation was infuriating but she couldn't allow herself to get mad. She held her tongue, her temper had got her into trouble in the past but she couldn't afford to let it get the better of her now and leave her out of a job before the first morning was even done.

The girl she stood beside tried to reassure her they had all been just as slow when they started, eventually you'll pick up the pace she had said explaining that it was easier when the crews sang as it helped them match the rhythm and work faster. With a wink she started to sing, the other women picked it up and soon the quayside was alive with the sound of their voices and the screech of the gulls as they tried to get at the gut bucket.

Katniss had heard some of the songs before and even if she hadn't by about the third hour she knew them as if she had been singing them all her life. So she started to sing in the hope that it would help her achieve the pace of the other women.

…..

Peeta was on his way back from his deliveries, he liked to pass by the docks even though it was a little off his route and even though he knew the extra time taken would vex his mother. The women were singing as he stood on the parade that looked down over the yard. He liked the sound of their voices although they were hard and coarse. Still the tune was an easy familiar one that he knew he would be humming for the rest of the day.

He was turning to continue back to the bakery when she started to sing. The rest of the voices stopped and gulls fell silent. All that could be heard was her voice, a thousand times sweeter and clearer than those before. Only once before had he heard a voice like that, but surely _she_ couldn't be here amid the herring works. It wasn't hard to spot the source of the music. She was wearing a shawl around her head and shoulders as the other women did, keeping her hair from her face and offering protection from the sea wind, but he could see from the few wisps of hair that had escaped that her colouring was unusual for these parts. She had very dark hair and her skin was not pale like most locals. Although many of the other women here had weather worn ruddy cheeks and reddened arms from years of submerging them in salty brine for hours a day, her skin looked like it had been warmed by the sun of a foreign clime. It reminded him of stories he'd heard old sailors recall of exotic females they'd encountered in far off southern lands. And her eyes? If only she would look up at him so that he could see if her eyes matched that of her kind that he had seen before. Because surely only a Selkie could sing like that.

'Look up, look at me' he urged but only in a whisper that no one other than himself and the wind would hear. But as if she had heard his wish she looked up at him.

No it wasn't the same Selkie. Although her eyes were unusual, almost a silvery gray, they were nothing like the deep dark pools that his rescuer had possessed. But still he couldn't tear his eyes from hers, she was just as enchanting.

She stood silent watching him just as he did her. Moments passed before she seemed to come to her senses and a deep blush tinged her cheeks. She looked back down at the fish in her hand before throwing it into the barrel behind her. It was only then that he realised that the other women were singing and birds were still screeching and diving. He had been absolutely sure that every other noise had been silenced whilst she was singing but now he couldn't be sure. Had he only imagined it?

He stood a while longer watching her work, he saw the way she winced from time to time and rubbed her finger tips together. He noticed the little furrow of her brow as she concentrated hard on her work. Finally remembering where he was and how late he was, and also once he was satisfied that she wasn't going to look up again, he hastily made for home. Whilst he walked he tried to think of a plausible excuse to explain his tardiness to his mother.

…

Katniss looked up in time to see him hurry away, noticing his uncomfortable gait as he did so. She would have recognised him anywhere. After all he had been visiting her in her dreams for years. It did not occur to her to be surprised that he looked exactly as he did in her dreams, although she hadn't seen him since they were both children. She felt her cheeks redden again as she remembered the way they had embraced and her state of undress in her dream only this morning.

Soon the girls broke for lunch. She joined Joanna and Annie, the girls she shared the boarding room with, on the edge of the quay. They ate silently their feet dangling above the water. Joanna was the first to finish eating. "So what was that with the baker's boy then?"

"What do you mean?" Katniss tried to sound innocent, she had hoped no-one had witnessed the way she'd stared at him.

"Don't be coy, I saw you and him watching each other. Do you know Peeta?"

"No. Only that he came to the island on his uncle's boat for deliveries before the accident. I haven't seen him for years."

"Well, looked like you certainly caught his eye. Not that it would do you any good, his mother doesn't let her boys _associate_ with ill-bred fishwives like us."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, I'm not going to be _associating_ with him." Katniss was uncomfortable with what Joanna was implying.

"Well I wouldn't mind, cripple or not" Joanna said casually, tossing a stone into the water. Katniss felt her mouth drop open with shock at what Joanna seemed to be flippantly referring to.

Annie however didn't seem at all shocked by this aspect of Joanna's comment "Jo, that's not fair you shouldn't speak ill of people like that. He can't help it."

"Is he…I mean… does he have a limp?" asked Katniss wanting confirmation of what she thought she'd seen earlier.

Annie nodded "He got it when he nearly died in the storm that night. His leg was damaged terribly, they called the doctor but it didn't set right. He was lucky he didn't lose it altogether."

"Yeah, broke his leg and his head at the same time." Joanna said tapping the side of her head and pulling a face implying Peeta was crazy.

"What do you mean?"

"When they found him on the beach, the only survivor. He said he was alive because he was rescued by a Selkie."

"The seal people, like in the stories?"

"That's right. Everyone indulged him at the time because he was young and had nearly died. But I've heard he still believes it till this day. But you know" Joanna grinned "he's a handsome lad so I might still let him _associate_ with me."

"Jo!"

"What Annie, you have to admit he's good to look at. I've seen you go pink when he's tipped his hat at you in the street." On cue Annie's cheeks darkened.

"And if I were you" Joanna continued turning her attention back to Katniss, 'I'd go and visit your baker boy. There's no harm in having useful friends. You'll find there's scant money to spare once your food and lodging is paid. So any free food such as bread, would be a boon you can't turn down. And the best thing to prevent those" she nodded towards the sore cuts on Katniss' hands "is to bind your fingers with tough sacking like the kind flour comes in."

They were interrupted then by the foreman shouting for them to get back to work. Annie held out her hand to help pull Katniss back up to standing. As she did so Katniss instinctively put her hand to her back, she was already starting to feel stiff and hated to think how much she would ache by Sunday.

…

Notes:

I imagine the women sounding like this when they sing:

educationscotland . Gov .uk / scotlandssongs / secondary / songofthefishgutters . asp (take out the spaces)

Where as in my head Katniss would sound more like Clannad singing the theme from Harry's game

you tube watch?v=0B6JobE9OHc


	4. Chapter 4

Katniss fidgeted nervously, absently mindedly chewing on her thumbnail before quickly spitting it out, the foul taste snapping her back from her distraction. Her nails like everything else tasted of raw fish. The smell had impregnated her skin, her hair and her clothes. It was a permanent odor that filled her nostrils. Annie had laughed at her complaints and assured her she would soon be so used to the smell she wouldn't even notice it. With a smirk, Joanne had added that most of the men in town were involved in fishing work of some kind so it wouldn't bother them either. Katniss had no interest in those men and she didn't care to think of them being interested in her either. However, she had found herself wondering how _he_ would smell. Did he smell warm and comforting like freshly baked bread or would he be sweet and spiced like the cakes they sold at the bakery? She tried to suppress these musings before they could even form in her mind. She didn't know him, why should she care how he smelled? She had no business entertaining such thoughts, but it was hard when his deliveries meant he passed her at the docks each morning as she worked

If Katniss were completely truthful with herself she found herself waiting to catch a glimpse of him. She snuck surreptitious glances praying that no one else caught her studying him as he stopped, baskets balanced on the wall, for a rest. She couldn't help but notice the blond curls that sat below the back of his cap, his broad shoulders and strong arms, and his clear blue eyes as he watched the girls work. She would be mortified if anyone were to learn how often she had found herself thinking of him over the last few days. She tried to justify her interest in Peeta as purely innocent. It was only natural, she reasoned, to be curious about one of the only people she knew in the town and to observe the man he had become. But she feared that her interest was not completely innocent. Especially as the thoughts stirred up emotions that were not entirely dissimilar to those she felt when they embraced in her dreams.

No good could come of thinking of him like that and so, despite Jo and Annie's encouragement, she had put off coming to the bakery. But that afternoon, when she had been growing careless with fatigue, she had sliced clean across the palm of her left hand. The tatty pieces of cloth she had begged and borrowed from other girls would not be sufficient. She knew she needed to bandage it properly if she was going to last the rest of the week. She winced as she subconsciously flexed her hand and looked across the street to the shop front. The Mellark bakery was already closed for the day. The shutters had been pulled down to hide the window displays, but light could still be seen coming from the side door that stood ajar.

Katniss took a deep breath crossing the street quickly, before she could give herself a chance to change her mind, and started down the alleyway that ran between the bakery and the neighbouring building.

She tried to steady her breath and calm the nervous churning in her stomach. There was no need to get worked up she told herself. After all he might not even be there, but that thought brought her little comfort.

She was just thankful that he couldn't see the contents of her head, where only moments ago there had been vision of herself naked in his arms. Even so she didn't know how she was going to look him in the eye without the shame of it being evident on her face.

She managed to compose herself enough to continue walking, only to be stopped short by the raised voices beyond the kitchen door.

"… You think I care what your father said. He's as soft in the head as you are. You should be glad that someone is willing to take you on."

"But I don't love her.."

"Love! Love! Who mentioned love? Do you think I married for love? I made the best union I could and you'll do the same. If you think there's going to be a better offer you're a dammed fool. You should be grateful that her father will even consider you as you are. Do you have any idea how much it's costing us?"

"I wont marry her, mother." Peeta voice was firm against his mother's tirade.

"Then you'll be out on the street, a beggar or dead. This place will only make enough to support your brother's family and Lord only knows Orla's dowry wasn't what we were led to believe." the woman spat bitterly, "I had a right mind to send her back and have the whole thing annulled but it was too late by then."

Katniss staggered, trying to comprehend what she was hearing. She wondered how anyone could be so cold and hateful. Yet this woman easily talked about people as if they were goods to be barter with. She would have no problems discarding a girl on her wedding night without a care for her reputation because the price wasn't right. Whilst most mothers would be offering up daily praise that their child had been saved from a watery grave instead she merely viewed her son as a burden to offload. Katniss felt her temper threatening to bubble over. She wanted nothing more than to burst into the kitchen and protect Peeta from the vicious outpouring, but she fought the urge to intervene and risk exposing herself.

"I don't care what you say, I wont marry her" Peeta's voice was more heated now.

"…then who else will have you, huh? It's about time you saw yourself for what you really are. A burden on the family. Only able to do half the work of your brother. What kind of work do you think a sorry excuse for a man like you is going to find? You'll agree to this arrangement and make the best of it and that's an end to it."

"I will not!" the door flung open banging loudly as it hit the wall and causing Katniss jump back. She shrunk into the shadows as Peeta fled in the opposite direction,his mother screaming after him. "I don't know what I did to deserve such an ungrateful child."

Katniss stood staring after Peeta unsure what to do. She wanted to run after him and comfort him, but that was ridiculous. It wasn't her place to do so. She only felt she knew him because he had been visiting her in her dreams for so long, she had no real claim to him. It was also possible that Peeta's adamant refusal of the marriage was because he already had a sweetheart of his own that his mother was unaware of.

Katniss watched Peeta until he rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. Eventually she turned and made her way back to the street. It was still early and with midsummer growing ever closer it would be light long into the evening. She needed to clear her head and make sense of what she had just witnessed. There was one thing that she knew would, without fail, bring her comfort and so she headed down to the sea. As she walked she realised with unease that whilst swimming would calm her it couldn't solve her earlier problem. Rubbing her thumb across the sore palm of her hand she wondered if she would have the courage to dare return to the bakery later and try again.


	5. Chapter 5

Peeta aimed an angry kick at a stone, sending it flying from the cliff path to land in the surf below. Sniffing he wiped the back of his hand across his nose. Why the hell did he still care what she thought of him? But no matter how much he wished otherwise, it still hurt.

Damn her. It was always the same. He had wondered a million times whether it would be as bad if that night had never happened, if he had never been injured. But mother had always had a vicious temper and a poisonous tongue. His leg just gave her something to focus on.

He looked back down the hill to the bakery below. He hated that his mother saw him as half the man his brother was. He knew he couldn't do the same heavy lifting as Rowan, but he had found ways to work around that. In all other work he was the equal of his brother. Why did she choose not to see this?

He cursed as his footing slipped on the loose gravel of the path that led down towards the sea. In his haste to get away he had left his walking stick behind. The pace of his angry march had left his leg tired and a dull ache now throbbed in his thigh.

How could she think he would just agree to marry Magdalena? Although he knew there were plenty of others that would jump at the chance. Her only brother had died from the fever three winters ago which left Magdalena to inherit the ship chandlery business from her father. It would be a profitable match for the man who married her. Peeta could only wonder what kind of deal his mother could have offered to have brokered the marriage.

How did Magdalena feel about the arrangement? Had she even been told yet? He had thought she was already being courted, but he now presumed that the relationship had not been official. Peeta was certain Magdalena loved the other man and he could not think how heartbroken she must be feeling. Magdalena was a nice girl and he knew her well but he could not imagine a life where they were trapped with each other forever. He pictured her at their wedding sobbing as they were bound together, losing all her hope of a true love match and the image made him feel sick.

By the time he flopped down on the beach the wave of despair he always felt after being on the receiving end of one of his mother's disparaging rants had hit him.

_It had been under similar circumstances that he had first found his way to the secluded cove a few summers ago. The way to the beach was so hidden no one should ever really have been able to find it and the nature of the rocks were such that no boat could ever moor here. It was the perfect hideaway._

_That first day he had had a run in with some of the crueler boys in town. A handful of them found it good sport to taunt him about his limp and his beliefs in the old stories of Selkie folk. That day the jeers and insults had led, as they often did, to physical injury. It wasn't that he was altogether weaker than them, he would have probably beaten them hands down in an arm wrestle, but his leg made him slow and clumsy and they knew he was easy prey. When he arrived home his mother had instantly seen the evidence of the fight and the tears on his face. He wasn't stupid enough to imagine that he would receive any sympathy from her but he had still craved it. Mother had not held back on letting him know what a disgrace he was. How embarrassing it was for the neighbours to see him like that, a coward and a weakling, bloody and blubbering in the street. He had hated her right then and he had hated himself for letting the bullies get the better of him. _

_He had stormed along the cliff path just as he had today and by pure luck kept going until he had found himself at the hidden cove. Feeling despondent he had slumped down on the sand, head in his hands, his back against a rock and let the angry desolate tears flow. He had no idea how long he had sat like that but had been disturbed by voices and laughing ringing across the beach. They had not been harsh and mocking like the bullies before but instead it was a happy carefree sound. _

_As Peeta stepped from behind the rock the sight that met him caused him to stumble back in shock, tripping over his own feet before landing him flat on his back. There on the beach were three lithe women their naked bodies exposed to the warm sun. At the same time their heads had snapped in his direction "What was that? Is there someone there?" they had questioned in unison._

_He had wanted to get up and run, not wanting them to think they had caught him in the act of spying on them. But as they had gracefully darted over the sand towards him Peeta had found himself caught in the dilemma of wanting to flee yet not wanting to take his eyes off them. He tried to stand up but his leg had betrayed him. Tired from his hike along the cliff path, he was unable to push himself up from the ground fast enough and before he knew it they were upon him. Three faces looked down at him, but instead of being angry they looked amused by what they had found. They watched with interest as, whilst trying to stand again, his hand flew to his leg reacting to the pain that shot through it. _

"_He's been crying."_

"_Is he hurt?"_

"_Look, he's hurt his leg."_

_The speed at which they spoke was disconcerting, seeming to finish each other's thoughts. Then they spoke together again as if with one voice "Well, what should we do with you human?" as he let them pull him to his feet._

_He tried to steady his nervous breathing but he was certain he was trembling. He had never seen a naked woman before and here right before him were three. Three beautiful nubile Selkie, for he knew with absolute certainty that this was what they were. He tried hard to keep his eyes on their faces and not to stare at their bodies but it was so difficult. They in turn seemed quite unashamed of their bare skin. Although their long hair hung down in curtains on either side of their shoulders giving them some level of modesty he couldn't help but notice that their hair only reached as far as their ribs leaving the rest of them exposed. _

_Startled he jerked his head to the side as the Selkie standing to his right reached out to touch him. With a curiously playful expression she ran her fingers through his hair, watching the way it fell through her fingers, before letting her caress move to his face. With a shaky breath he couldn't help but let his eyes fall closed melting into her sensual touch. He savoured the feeling as she followed the shape of his ear, tracing along his jawline, before moving back up to soothe his cheeks still wet with tears. _

_The gentle fingertips were replaced by the light tease of her tongue on his ear. He inhaled sharply a split second before his attention was wrenched away by the feeling of fingers on his belt. His eyes flew to his waist as a second Selkie, kneeling before his injured leg, swiftly unfastened his belt and trousers. He went to stop her but the third female took hold of his hands. Momentarily mesmerised Peeta was held by her deep dark eyes before he dropped his gaze to see his trousers fall to the ground. His breath became heavy as the kneeling Selkie's hands ran over the rough cotton of his undershorts. She quickly found the bottom edge of his shorts before sliding under the material and back up his thigh. The warmth of her smooth skin sent shivers up his leg and across his body. With horror he realised she would soon notice, if she hadn't already, the affect that the touch of the Selkie women was having on him. She was travelling dangerously close to where the growing hardness strained against the material of this shorts. _

_Peeta realised the Selkie women were enjoying teasing their new found plaything, teaching him a lesson for spying on them. He tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat so that he could speak the words to make them to stop. But as Peeta raised his head he found himself caught again in the gaze of the third Selkie who still held his hands in hers. She cocked her head slightly as she let her eyes wander over his face. With a wicked smile she asked, "So tell us human, are you a man or a child?"_

"_I…I…" He couldn't get the words out or even form a coherent thought in his head. _

_The third female moved a little closer, he could feel her breath on his face as she teased him. She tossed her head, flicking her long hair back over her shoulders fully exposing herself to him. With a grin she pushed back her shoulders arching herself towards him, clearly entertained by his reaction as he stared at her. He gulped audibly. He ached to touch her but she was still holding his hands, fully in control of the game. Besides he was scared that one wrong move would have the Selkie scattering back to the water and, no matter what his conscious told him, he didn't want it to end. Morally he knew he should protest and make them stop, but the straining heat in this shorts and every nerve in his body was begging them to continue._

"_Have you been kissed before man child?" He heard the simultaneous giggles from her companions._

_He shook his head, it was true he had never been kissed. A girl had allowed him to kiss her once but he could not honestly say she had kissed him back. _

_The Selkie leant in then placing her lips to his and he could feel the soft warmth of her bare flesh pressed to him. His mouth opened as he gasped and in that moment he was lost to the assault of pleasure on his body. Her mouth moving against his, the caresses of her tongue, whilst fingers gripped his hair, he felt another's lips on his neck, hot breath on his leg, hands stroking him moving closer and closer to the hardness in his shorts. Then as she pressed even closer to him he could no longer resist the urge to push against the heat of her naked body. Unable to contain it any longer he let the shudder ripple through his body as he moaned in release. _

_The Selkie pulled away from him leaving him __breathless and _swaying slightly. They laughed. He knew that they had toyed with him like a plaything but he also knew he didn't mind one bit. 

_The women's heads snapped round then in a synchronized movement responding to a barking order that came from the sea. They hurriedly danced away, first rushing to a rock to grab what he presumed was their pelts, before turning to throw playful glances and giggles at him as they dove into the water. When at last they had resurfaced it was the smooth dark outlines of seals' heads between the waves that he had seen._

As Peeta lay back on the sand recalling that day from three summers ago he was unable to stop the face of the girl from the docks appearing. The face that seemed to occupy much of his waking day ever since he had heard her sing. Instead of the memory of the three sea nymphs he allowed himself to fantasise about her naked body pressed to his, her breasts full and soft, her tongue dancing with his and it was the heat between her legs that he imagined as he found his release.

* * *

Firstly - thank you to those who have reviewed this story - its really kind of you and much appreciated.

Secondly - Peeta and Katniss really are going to meet in the next chapter. It was supposed to be this chapter but it was just getting to long. I'm really annoyed with myself for letting it get this far without them talking, I always hate stories where it gets dragged out for ages. So apologies for that.

Thirdly - grammar and punctuation are not my friends so sorry if this sometimes makes the story hard to read.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you so much to Katnissinme, who so very patiently beta'd this chapter and put up with all my dodgy English spelling and indecisiveness.

* * *

Peeta's mood was somber as he walked towards the light of the kitchen door. While the solitude of the beach had cleared his head and erased the anger, his heart felt heavy. On his walk back, his leg had begun to ache and he had berated himself for entertaining dreams of the dark-haired girl. It did not do him any good to let himself fantasise about something that would never happen.

What did he have to offer a girl like that, or any girl? His mother was right – no-one that he truly desired was ever going to want to be saddled with a burden like him. If he had been the eldest son and set to inherit the bakery, then he would at least have that to offer. He could provide a comfortable life for the dark-haired girl, away from the harsh drudgery of the gutting crews. If the night of the accident had never happened, if his leg hadn't been damaged, and if he still worked for his uncle, then he could at least have hoped to court her. But there was no point dwelling on what ifs. What had happened had happened, and he had to face the fact that a girl as captivating as she could have her pick of much more worthy admirers. He could hear his mother's words from earlier ringing in his head, "You're a damn fool boy." The sooner he accepted the reality that she would never consider someone like him, the better.

He didn't know her. He didn't even know her name, having feared any enquiries would expose his attraction to her. It was most probable that she was completely unaware of his existence. If he could just stop walking past the docks, their paths were unlikely to ever cross; but since the moment she had enchanted him with her singing he had been drawn to her,and he wasn't sure he had the will to keep his distance.

As he reached for the door handle he paused, hearing the voices inside. He relaxed as he realised it was not his mother. His brother was talking with a girl.

"Sacking was it?" he could hear Rowan muse. "I suppose I could help you with that." His brother made it sound like he was doing whoever it was a great favour. "How about that? Will that do you?"

"Um, …I...," Peeta heard the girl hesitantly answer and he presumed that however much cloth Rowan had held up was a lot less than the girl had hoped for. Peeta shook his head with an exasperated sigh. Rowan could be an ass sometimes, and was obviously enjoying teasing his latest victim_**.**_

"This will cost you a kiss," Rowan continued. Peeta could hear the grin in his voice, "but if you're after more, then I'm sure we could come to some arrangement."

Most of the girls were used to Rowan clowning around, and they would have known that it was just his idea of a joke and that he didn't mean it. Most of the girls would have told him where to stuff the sacking by now; Rowan would have laughed and given them the cloth anyway, enjoying the game. But this girl was obviously not familiar with Rowan's jokes; this girl probably thought he truly wanted a trade for the cloth. It must be someone new, Peeta reasoned.

With that thought it dawned on him who was in the kitchen. Without stopping to think he burst through the door, startling both occupants with the sudden intrusion.

"Peeta!" the dark-haired girl exclaimed, her head whipping in his direction_**. **_

It was her, the girl whose singing had bewitched him, the very same one whose naked body he had imagined pressed to him; and he could do nothing but stand and stare at her as the shock of her presence and the shame of his earlier fantasy washed over him.

Was it providence that she was standing here in his kitchen? Had fate crossed their paths once more just as he had been thinking about her? Or was it merely tormenting him with what he desired, laughing with the knowledge that he had no hope of ever obtaining it?

Yet there was another thought that danced from the back of his mind, reigniting a spark of hope – _she knew his name_. Such a simple fact should not have brought such pleasure, but it did.

Rowan cleared his throat, pulling Peeta from his thoughts and reminding him that he was standing in the kitchen like a gawping idiot. He turned to face Rowan, who threw him an amused, questioning look.

"Rowan," Peeta said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt, "Orla is looking for you."

"Really?" Rowan raised his eyebrows evidently not fooled by this lie. "Well, if that's the case I'd better not keep her waiting." Gesturing towards the dough on the counter he added with a smirk, "You won't mind finishing that off for me then, will you?" and with a courteous nod, "Nice to meet you miss," Rowan left them alone in the kitchen.

Peeta's attempted confidence was instantly replaced with an awkward self-consciousness. "Don't pay any attention to my brother. He finds it fun to tease people, he doesn't mean anything by it," he gabbled nervously, playing with the edge of the old flour sack that sat on the table beside him. He could tell from her face that she wasn't sure whether to believe him.

Up close her face was even more beautiful than he had thought from a distance. Her hair was damp, and Peeta noticed that there were grains of sand stuck to the dried seawater along her hair-line. She must have been swimming. Despite the fact it was still early summer and the water would have been bitterly cold, he did not find this surprising. In fact, it seemed only natural to him that she would have been swimming in the ocean. He could not help but make comparisons between her and the Selkies_**.**_ She had the same dark hair, the same skin colouring, but was shorter and more slight of build than the other more curvaceous females. He had noticed the day she had sung at the fish yards that her eyes were not the same deep, dark pools of the other Selkie. Now that he had time to truly appreciate them, he realised that, while her eyes were not the same, they were still unlike any others he had ever seen before. The people of this region tended to be fair of skin, light haired, occasionally red headed, but almost never dark haired like this girl. Eye colour was more often than not blue or green, but never grey eyes, not like hers. He became aware, as she started to look uncomfortable, that he was staring into her eyes, lost in his thoughts. Breaking from his trance, he recognised that he needed to make conversation quickly.

Peeta had imagined talking to her several times over the last few days. He had gone past the docks every morning since the first day he had heard her sing. He would stop with the pretense of readjusting the bread in the delivery baskets so that he could spend a few moments scanning the rows of workers to catch a glimpse of her face. Now that he actually found himself with the opportunity to speak to her, he couldn't think of a thing to say. A strained silence hung between them until she broke it.

"I came for some sacking, for my hands." As if by explanation she held her palms out to him.

Instinctively he took her hands in his, examining the angry red cut that lay there. He noticed with satisfaction how her small, warm hands seemed to sit perfectly in the palm of his large ones. The desire to bend his head and kiss the wound, and then each of her fingers in turn, was consuming. He wondered what it would feel like to know he could kiss them everyday. He wanted to know what it would be like to hold her hand and walk through town knowing she was unashamed to be seen with him. He wanted to know how her hands would feel as they ran over his bare skin. Shocked by where he had let his mind wander, he abruptly dropped her hands. As soon as he did his own felt impossibly empty, yet he could still feel the warm ghost of her touch where her hands had lain in his.

"Uh… um…flour sacks, of course." He turned hastily away from her surprised stare to get the scissors from the drawer behind him. His abrupt movement jarred his leg and he had to grab hold of the table to steady himself before he moved clumsily to the counter. He took longer than necessary searching for the scissors, hoping that the burning redness of his shame would have a chance to die down before he faced her again. He prayed that he could at least make it back to her without embarrassing himself any further with his oafish movements. Disheartened, he knew there was no hope that she had not noticed his leg before. And if she had learnt his name, he was certain that she had also been told the details of his impediment.

He cut off several large strips from the sacking. "Do.." he coughed, the words sticking nervously in his throat, "do you think that will be enough, or would you like more?"

"That's plenty. Thank you,"she said, courteous but unsmiling, holding out her hands for the cloth. He guessed she was understandably confused by his actions: first he had stood gazing spellbound into her eyes, then held her hands for an immoderate amount of time, only to drop them like hot coals and rush away from her. This was not how he had imagined their first meeting. He could kick himself. It was his fault it had taken a turn for the worst, and he desperately wondered how he could steer it round again.

"Wait, here take this," he said quickly as she turned to go. He grabbed a bag off of the counter which he knew contained unsold sweet cardamom bread. It would have been a welcome treat for his and Rowan's lunch tomorrow, but he would happily forego it if it meant even a small step toward gaining her friendship_**.**_

A furrow creased her forehead as she looked uncertainly from him to the bag and back again.

"Really, I can't," she said, trying to push the bag back into his hand.

"Please, think of it as an apology for my brother's ridiculous childish humour."

She hesitated before she reluctantly agreed. She thanked him and bid him good evening before crossing to the door. Her hand was on the door handle and already he felt her absence_**. **_He couldn't let her go, not yet.

"What…," he started abruptly. "I mean…may I ask what your name is?"

Turning back to look at him she answered, "Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

"Katniss, if you ever need anything. If you need more cloth, or anything. My family lives above the bakery, but I live above the storehouse out back. What I mean to say is, that if you don't want to deal with my pain of a brother again, you can always come and ask me instead." He felt himself blush again, fearing that he sounded like a rambling idiot.

Katniss smiled though, "Thank you, Peeta. Really, that's very kind of you."

Her smile was warm and genuine, and possibly the most glorious thing he had ever seen, and he could not restrain the grin that spread across his face in response.

She thanked him again before taking her leave, and he continued to watch the door long after she had gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Katniss turned her gaze away from the sea; she had been guiltily hiding by the uncharacteristically quiet dock, waiting until she heard the bells ring out signaling the end of morning prayer. She had avoided church that morning, and had been trying to convince herself that it was due to any number of logical excuses.

Her muscles ached far too much to sit through one of the tediously long sermons, she had told herself. Her back was too stiff to stand that long and her knees too sore for kneeling. And she reasoned she was so tired she would have probably fallen asleep during the service and made a spectacle of herself.

This was all true; she had not been prepared for quite how hard working on the gutting crews would be. She had never thought herself to be lazy – she had always helped with the domestic chores at home – but the hours here were back-breakingly long and relentless.

Last night Joanna and Annie had tried to talk her into joining them to celebrate the end of the week. The fishing crews were back in port and they, like the girls, were ready to celebrate the end of a long working week with singing, dancing, drinking and whatever that might lead to. But she had feigned illness and a desire to write home. The truth, however, was that she was exhausted and had wanted nothing more than to lie down, but she did not want them to know how weak she was.

But the night had not brought her any respite; her sleep had been disturbed again. And that was the real reason she could not face church that morning. Since she had visited the bakery the week before, her recurring dream now appeared every night; what's more, it had changed.

Whereas she used to wake as they embraced, now Peeta's hushed reassurances had turned into a determined promise. "If they want you, then they're going to have to fight me." Followed by a kiss. A kiss that not only troubled her dreams but plagued her waking moments. She could think of nothing else during the day, for in her dream she experienced every sensation: the heat of his body, the feel of his lips moving against hers, the tightening of her stomach and the warm need that grew in her. And when she woke with a gasp, she was left with such a feeing of unfulfilled want that it almost had her running to his door in the night to continue what they had started in her dream. She was appalled by her immodest desires. Her devout father was surely rolling in his grave. He would have chastised her severely for harbouring such thoughts.

She could not face sitting in church, listening to them preach with all the outward appearance of a good girl, knowing that her facade was a lie. A chaste girl did not entertain such thoughts more appropriate to a harlot and a jezebel.

She only hoped that she did not talk in her sleep. She could just imagine what fun Joanna would have tormenting her with this information. She was also pretty sure Jo would advise her to go ahead and get it out of her system. Katniss had heard her give another girl very similar advice only the other day. But that was not the way she had been raised. Her father had taught her to fear the sins of the flesh. That life led to the ruin of many women and he had made it clear he would not let that future befall a child of his.

Besides, if she had acted on her impulse, who was to say Peeta would have reciprocated? She knew Joanna would have plenty to say about that as well, she was not shy on her opinion that men did most of their thinking with what was in their pants rather than in their heads.

Lost in her guilty thoughts, Katniss did not realise where her feet had led her until she looked up and found herself standing behind the bakery. She supposed it made sense that with Peeta so much on her mind her subconscious had brought her here. She stood looking at the windows above the storehouse. Now that she was here should she knock? Hadn't he said if she wanted anything to come to him? But now that she stood there her mind was full of doubt. He had only said it to be polite. He could not have really expected her to turn up uninvited. He was probably busy. It wasn't even worth knocking, he was probably not back from church yet.

And if he were there, what would she say? Why was she there? She could lie and say she needed more sacking, but she felt ridiculous. She should not have come here, she should leave. But she remembered the way he had held her hands, the way he had looked at her. It had made her feel uncomfortable, not because she did not want him to hold her hands, but quite the opposite; she feared she liked it too much. In the warmth of his strong hands, hers had felt small and delicate, not something she was used to feeling. Primrose was the delicate flower, Katniss was the one who gave bloody noses to the boys at school who dared tease her.

But then it had ended so abruptly. Peeta had dropped her hands as if he'd been stung. Doubtless he had come to his senses, not wanting to sully himself with the stench of her soiled hands.

But that didn't explain Peeta's gift of the wonderful bread; Joanna, with a salacious grin, had wanted to know exactly how Katniss had earned that! Could it just have been pity? Had her hands felt small and delicate because hardships at home had caused her to lose so much weight over the last year? Perhaps he only felt sorry for her and wanted to help? But his smile, his beautiful radiant smile that had lit up the kitchen, surely that had meant something more than mere pity?

She didn't know what to think. She had never fixated on anyone in such a way before. But which Peeta was it that she found herself day-dreaming about? His actions had confused her so much; her head was mixed up with thoughts of the real Peeta and the one from her dreams. She no longer knew whether the emotions she felt were true or just fantasy.

Katniss forced her feet to take her away from the bakery, but instead of going back to the boarding house, she turned to the hill she had seen Peeta run toward the evening she had heard him argue with his mother. She had an impulsive need to know where Peeta had gone that day after the fight, to see where he had sought sanctuary.

After scaling the hill Katniss took the dirt track that hugged the curve of the coast. It was a clear day, and she could see right out to the islands from here. She wondered sadly what Prim was doing now. Home and her old life on the island seemed such a long way away.

Her attention was drawn back to the track as it become narrow and rutted, worn down from centuries of use. Katniss observed that it would have been arduous and uncomfortable for Peeta to walk this way. She looked back at the way she had come. Just a few feet behind her another trail, that she had been too distracted to notice before, forked away cutting down to the beach. But something told her that Peeta would not have turned back to take the easier route.

Katniss was hot and tired, having walked for what seemed like an eternity in the midday sun, when the path finally ran out, its way barred by gorse bushes and brambles. Katniss berated herself for not choosing the earlier path. As she accepted that she would have to head back, she suddenly spotted a gap between the bushes revealing another concealed trail. Slipping on the loose dirt, her skirt catching on brambles, she negotiated her way to the beach, only to discover that she had been wrong after all.

There was nothing special here, the beach was just a mass of rocks. When they were younger she and Prim had enjoyed hours rock pooling, searching for crabs on beaches like this. But this place did not feel like it would be Peeta's safe haven.

At either end of the beach was sheer cliff face; there was no way Peeta could have climbed them, but something made her cross towards the far side of the beach anyway.

As she neared the cliff a crack in its face became visible. It was barely wide enough for a person to pass through. On the pebbled ground she could see debris that had been washed up by the sea, but it was too dark to see the back of the narrow crevice. This is ludicrous, she told herself. Peeta would never have forced himself into here. As she placed her hand on the rock surface to peer further inside, she felt a tremor run up her arm and through her body, prickling across her scalp as if to the very tips of her hair. Pulling back from the entrance she gave another involuntary shiver. The expression _'someone has just walked over my grave' _came to mind. A silly old saying, she had always thought, but now it didn't seem such nonsense.

With nervous apprehension she slid into the opening and felt her way along the wall into the darkness. She tried to put it down to her imagination but when she had to turn sideways and side step she had to concede with horror that the cave was indeed getting narrower. Fear gripped her chest and she stopped to steady her breathing. Her mind raced with panic; it felt like the walls were closing in, that she would be swallowed alive by the rock, that she was edging her way into a tomb from which she would never emerge. She had only gone a few feet into the darkness, but she felt as far from the safety of the sun drenched beach as she could possibly be. Looking behind her she could no longer see the slither of light showing the way she had come, but she would still be able to make it back if she wanted to. She squeezed her eyes shut, resting her head back against the ragged wall.

She stayed like that until the erratic thumping of her heart subsided. Calmly she opened her eyes again - she would not go back, she had to continue. Peeta had come this way, she had felt it before when she had touched the entrance, and now in the dark heart of the tunnel she was absolutely certain.

Just a few steps further and she was rewarded with the first sight of daylight. The exit soon appeared wider and she rushed to be back out in the open.

The beach here was not rocky like the last one, or even covered in pebbles and shingle like the ones nearer to town. Instead, here was a wondrous sight of fine, near white sand.

Looking around Katniss saw she stood in a small cove closed in on three sides by high cliffs. The only visible entrance was the tunnel through which she had emerged. There were a couple of large boulders which stood on the beach, and out to sea was a ring of jagged rocks refusing entrance to any boats and forming a little lagoon. Her own private swimming pool.

She climbed up on one of the larger boulders by the water edge, a long flat-topped rock that acted as a natural jetty extending into the sea. Looking down into the clear water the bottom was easily visible. The white sand and the sun gave the water here an almost turquoise colour. Scanning the beach from her vantage point Katniss reassured herself she was alone before quickly stripping and diving into the cold water.

The feel of it on her bare skin was incredible. She felt so fresh, it washed away the strain and aches of the week, it cleared her head and cleansed her of all the worries she carried. She could not remember the last time she felt so alive. She dove to the bottom, eyes closed blindly feeling her way along the sandy bed before pushing back up to the surface. As she rolled over to float on her back, looking up at the sky, she laughed with pure elation at the freedom and weightlessness.

* * *

Peeta set his painting supplies down on the rock. He smiled, watching the sunlight dancing like sprites across the sea. His tasks at the bakery were complete, he had survived the hideously long church sermon and now he was free. He had enough food for lunch and supper so there was no need to go back. He intended to stay here sketching and painting until the light failed and he had to return.

He had not noticed the movement in the water – he had been so fixed on the horizon – until she emerged naked and glorious onto the end of the rock.

He had not seen a selkie here since that first day, although the placement of rocks and the patterns made from seaweed let him know they still visited. But here stood one, with her back to him. He should have been ashamed to look at her, especially after today's sermon warning of the sins of the flesh; a possible repercussion of rumours circulating about a particularly rowdy Saturday night ceilidh attended by fishermen and female workers last night. But he couldn't help drinking in the sight of her. Besides, he remembered all too well that Selkie didn't share the same inhibitions about the natural form as humans.

His eyes followed the drops of water as they ran down the length of her spine. He let himself appreciate the smooth lines of her legs, the rounds of her hips, the slender curve of her waist and the length of her neck as she lent her head to one side, hair wound around her hand, wringing the water from it. He watched the beads of water glisten on her shoulders, and he could all but taste their salt on his tongue.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder she turned to face him. His face fell in horror as she screamed, her hands flying to cover her body.

* * *

Katniss grabbed her clothes; Peeta had turned his back to her and was spluttering apologies. For a split second she considered diving back into the ocean but instead she hurriedly dressed, tripping and struggling to ram her damp limbs into her clothes.

She had wanted to see him, hadn't she? But not like this! Damn it she should be careful what she wished for. He'd seen her, all of her.

What had possessed her to swim naked? Why hadn't she kept her underclothes on as she usually did? She wished the sea would swallow her whole. She wondered if she could escape from the beach without having to face him, but that seemed near impossible, as she needed to walk right past where he stood. Perhaps she could ask him to close his eyes. Ugh, what an idiot she was.

Katniss straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. Better get this over and done with, she admonished herself. "Alright, you can turn around." She hoped she sounded authoritative and in control. She did not want to appear the victim here, rather the accuser.

Peeta turned to her, red faced. Although she was decently covered now he still avoided looking directly at her, instead staring intently at his feet, one hand stuffed in his pocket.

"I am so sorry…so terribly sorry."

He looked incredibly shame faced, but that still didn't alter the fact that he must have been looking at her. God! How long had he been looking at her? And before she could stop herself her mind questioned whether or not he had liked what he saw, and the inadequacy she felt just fueled her displeasure with the entire situation.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

He looked surprised as his eyes met hers and she realised, given their location, it should probably have been him asking that question.

"I came here to paint," he replied quietly, his eyes moving to the bags by his feet.

She stared at the bag for a moment before finding her eyes drawn to his hands, one by his side the other gripping his walking stick with such force the tendons and the muscles stood out on his arm. Over the last few days thoughts of those hands had filled her mind, often at the most inopportune moments. She had dreamt about the touch of his warm hands on her bare flesh, imagined the strength of them as a baker preparing dough, and now she considered them as the skilled dexterous hands of an artist. She wondered what sensation they could create on her skin.

She considered Peeta's resolve during the over heard argument and his steadfast refusal to accept his mother's plans. He did not seem like a half-hearted sort, and his art, she decided, would show commitment and passion. Whilst it seemed highly inappropriate to start a conversation about his art given the situation, she wanted overwhelmingly to see what he had drawn, how he saw the world around him. But she did not want him to mistake her interest for absolution for his earlier offense, the remaining humiliation she felt meant he was far from being forgiven.

Maybe he saw the conflict in her face or maybe he felt the need to fill the silence, as he asked, "Do you want to see?"

"Alright," she shrugged faking indifference, but secretly thrilled that her wish was being granted without having to voice it_**. **_

He bent and opened the flap of his satchel, pulling a large pad from it and moving to stand beside her. She shifted a little and he must have sensed her unease at his closeness, as he moved to restore the space between them. She watched as he flipped open the pad. Thumbing through a few pages too rapidly to see the sketches they contained until, satisfied, he stopped at a drawing of the beach he had created with skillful strokes and shading of charcoal. Not a calm and sunny scene like today, but instead storm clouds hung over a rough sea that hit the rocks and sent spray into the air. It was a basic black and white image yet she felt transported to that day.

"I can almost feel the spray on my face," she said in astonishment.

Peeta laughed. She looked up as he smiled and she found herself caught in his eyes, bluer than the turquoise sea and deeper than the summer sky. He broke the gaze first and she suddenly felt like a silly little schoolgirl caught staring dreamily at a boy who wasn't interested in her.

He turned away hastily and bent to pick up the bag that sat next to his satchel. "I … I was just about to eat, you…have you had lunch, or would you care to join me?" He stumbled clumsily over his words in a haste to get them out and she thought the crimson of his cheeks, which had started to fade, looked a shade darker again.

She really shouldn't stay; it seemed most imprudent to be lunching with someone who only moments ago had witnessed her nude form. It would be much wiser to put as much distance between herself and Peeta as possible - she had already lingered too long. But she could smell the contents of the lunch bag and it suddenly seemed a very long time since she had eaten. She had slipped out of the boarding house before breakfast, to avoid talking to anyone, and now her stomach felt hollow.

_Don't be a fool, leave now,_ she sternly told herself, but before she could say anything her stomach, goaded by the delicious smells escaping from the bag, betrayed her. Peeta relaxed as he laughed at the loud growl of hunger that came from her stomach. "I guess that answers that." He sat down on the flat surface of the rock and, with his feet dangling from the edge, started to unpack the contents of the lunch bag.

There was rich dark rye bread, cured sausage and a small hunk of cheese. Flipping open a pocketknife Peeta proceeded to cut four slices from the bread, before slicing some sausage and cheese. He laid it all out using the rock as a tabletop.

Katniss still stood there. She had neither confirmed nor refused his invitation to eat with him, but he just seemed to take it for granted.

Wasn't he feeling awkward, shouldn't he be more apologetic, more ashamed that he had seen her naked? Did it not bother him at all? Then, with some disappointment, she realised that maybe it didn't. Perhaps he had seen her at her most vulnerable and decided that she held no interest for him. That must be it, for here he was acting like nothing had happened. That they were just two friends sharing a meal as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Well two could play that game. If it meant nothing to him then it meant nothing to her, she would not let his indifference fuel her insecurity and humiliation. So she took a seat beside him.

They ate in silence, but with surprise she found it to be comfortable rather than awkward. The food was good and she ate hungrily. When she had finished her sandwich, Peeta sliced her some more bread and offered what was left of the meat and cheese. It was rude to take it but then, she decided, he owed her. She watched the gentle waves breaking on the shore as she ate.

"Do you come here to swim?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Oh, sorry." She hadn't considered that perhaps he could not.

He had noticed her eyes fall to his leg and he added with a slight shrug, "Not because of my leg, I just don't really enjoy swimming."

"Did it happen on the rocks?" she asked, not sure if she was being rude.

"No. I never hit the rocks," he said matter-of-factly. "I think it happened when I fell overboard, I must have hit the boat as I went in."

"I didn't even know I'd broken it. I guess the freezing water made it numb and with everything else that was going on I never felt it. It wasn't until I tried to stand up that I realised it was broken. I suppose trying to stand must have pushed the bone out of alignment even more. The pain made me pass out but I must have been screaming pretty loudly before that because the noise was how they found me."

Seeing the look on her face he added. "Its not really that bad. I know what people say. I've heard the stories, but my leg wasn't smashed to pieces, they were never going to amputate. People like to exaggerate, to make up stories, it's like over the years I've become..."

"A legend?" she interrupted.

He gave a bitter snort of laughter. "More like a circus freak." Seeing her frown he added, "You know, the mad cripple telling crazy stories, believing in folklore and seeing make-believe creatures. People would rather believe I could swim across the bay in a raging storm with a broken leg than believe the truth."

"But you can't believe that? You don't still think that you were saved by the Selkie," she searched his face in vain for a sign that he was joking.

"I know what happened, I wasn't scared witless or a confused child. I know what happened that night and I know what I've seen." Peeta responded, his eyes so full of conviction and his tone so absolute that he almost had her convinced_**. **_

"But how can that be true?" she said in disbelief. She knew Joanna and Annie had told her the stories about Peeta being crazy enough to believe the old folklore and that he had honestly been rescued by the Selkie, but she had not wanted to believe it of him.

"I would have thought you of all people would understand." His brow creased in confusion.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Peeta looked torn as if unsure whether to continue.

"Tell me what you mean by that. Why should _I_ understand?" she pressed.

"The selkie stories, surely you know, surely you understand?" She could see he was urging her to understand, but she was unable to fathom why he thought she in particular would share such an affinity with his beliefs.

"Why should I? I know nothing of the stories. My father was a God-fearing man and wouldn't have mention of them or any faerie folk in the house. He said if they weren't mentioned in the bible it was for a reason, either they did not exist, or if they did, they were unholy damned creations and either way they should not be talked about."

"Your father?"

"Yes?"

"Have you never wondered about your father?"

She shook her head not following. What did this have to do with her father?

"Your voice, the way you sing. It's unlike any other person I've ever heard before. And I'll wager you find yourself drawn to the sea, am I right?"

"I don't understand what you're trying to say. Lots of people like to swim and can sing well." her bewilderment giving way to growing frustration at his increasingly cryptic remarks.

"Not like you, that day I heard you at the docks it was like all the birds fell silent. It was like the voice of the Selkie who saved me."

"You're being ridiculous," she tried to dismiss him, but the direction of the conversation was starting to create an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Am I? Do you look like your parents Katniss? You must have wondered about your dark hair, where the colour of your eyes came from? Does it run in your family?"

She stared at him open-mouthed. Was he really implying what she thought he was?

Yet he carried on calmly, seemingly unaware of the gravity of what he was suggesting, "Over the years there must have been times when you questioned whether he was your true father."

Katniss' hand flew before she had time to think. She heard the slap and felt the sting of her palm as it came into contact with Peeta's face. "How dare you? Who are you to slander my family, my mother? They're right, you are mad! You're insane to think I would understand anything of your … your lunatic fantasy of sea creatures!" She had stumbled to her feet by then and was backing away from him.

"I'm sorry Katniss, I just thought…" she could see his instant panicked regret as he realised what he had said, but she didn't care; it was too late for anymore apologies.

"What? You thought what Peeta?" she shouted, her voice wobbled on his name, but she refused to let her anger reduce her to tears.

"Katniss, please." Peeta implored as he struggled to his feet and took a step towards her.

"Just stay away from me. Leave me alone!" she spat as she ran from the beach, not giving Peeta any possibility of catching her. She ran until she reached the split in the rock and even then she did not slow her pace until she reached the boarding house.

Thankfully the room was empty and she threw herself down on her bed and sobbed. How could he be so cruel? Maybe everyone was right, maybe he was crazy. But if that was the case, then why did she even let herself consider his theories?

But she knew the reason it hurt so much was not his mad selkie theories, but his question of her parentage. Hadn't she herself wondered hundreds of times why she didn't fit in? How her blonde, blue-eyed mother and father, who spawned one child who matched them perfectly, could also have a daughter like her. There was no dark colouring in their ancestry that she was aware of, or that was ever mentioned. It was the elephant in the room that was never spoken of.

The real reason none of the island's mothers wanted her associated with their sons was that they thought, as did everyone, that she was a cuckoo in the nest, the bastard result of a tryst between her mother and an unknown lover. She had never fit in, but had pretended people only cared about her colouring, denying what she knew the real issue was - her illegitimacy.

She cried until she was out of tears and when the others came back to the room she pretended to be asleep.

* * *

Katniss was tired as she entered the boarding house on Monday evening. It had been a long day, not helped by the fact her dreams had been even more troubled last night.

"There's a package for you in your room," the landlady called to her as she climbed the stairs.

There on her bed lay a small package wrapped in brown paper. She untied the string and slipped the book from the wrapping. It was battered and dog-eared, and as she flicked through the pages a note fell from inside its cover and fluttered to the floor. She bent to retrieve it and saw it was from Peeta.

_Katniss,_

_I cannot hope to find the right words to tell you how sorry I am? Please believe me when I say that it was never my intention to cause distress or bring disrespect to either you or your family._

_I can only apologise and ask for your forgiveness for my crass stupidity._

_I know that you hate me and don't wish to speak with me, but I beg you to please read my notebook._

_After I was saved from the storm, I visited anyone who remembered the old stories. I spent months writing down every story, every scrap of information I could gain about the selkie and fin folk. The elder townsfolk didn't ridicule me; they remembered a time when these were not just faerie stories but cautionary tales that should be heeded._

_I've been so caught up in the stories for so long, the brunt of jokes for believing what I knew to be true, but which others refused to see as the truth. When the possibility of finding someone who understood came along I wasn't thinking straight. I know now that what I said to you was insensitive, but if you had lived as I have, then perhaps you could understand how I could get so carried away to find someone who I thought I could share it all with._

_Read the stories and perhaps you will appreciate how I jumped to see the similarities between you and the selkies, no matter how misplaced my conclusions were._

_I pray that once you read them you will understand, and that you can forgive me, even if just a little. I hope then that you and I can talk._

_But if we can't, I don't take back what I previously told you. If you should ever want anything or find yourself in need of a friend, I will always be here for you._

_Peeta_

* * *

A** Ceilidh** (Scottish Gaelic spelling) is a social gathering, which usually involves playing Gaelic folk music and dancing.

Thank you a million times over to Katnissinme for her insightful betaing of this chapter, it would still be unfinished and driving me mad without you.

And thank you to those who left lovely reviews for the last chapter I really appreciate them.


	8. Chapter 8

No matter how many times Katniss read Peeta's stories she still could not see that they could be true. When she read the stories, carefully recorded in the neat juvenile script of a 13-year-old Peeta, all she could see were myths. Cautionary tales created to scare children and warn them of the dangers of the sea. They had no relevance to her life, and for that she was truly thankful. Because if there was one thing that stood out as a common theme in the tales, it was that for those who became entangled with the selkie, life did not tend to end well.

There were stories of selkie raising storms and wreaking revenge on ships after their loved ones had been killed, mistaken for seals. Tales of men bewitched by female selkie and their siren calls who were lured to their death. Accounts of their love of silver and people's ability to appease or buy favour by crossing their palms with the right amount of money.

There were plenty of tales of people who had fallen for the selkie's alluring charms. Men who had cunningly caught themselves a selkie wife, by stealing her sealskin whilst she was in human form and hiding it, making it impossible for her to return to the sea. When inevitably the selkie woman found her second skin she would abandon her human family to return to the life she longed for in the ocean, the human husband left behind to pine and die without her.

Neither were human women immune to the seductive powers of the selkie. It was said that if a woman wished to summon a selkie man she had only to shed seven tears into the sea at high tide.

There were rare stories where the pairings between selkie and humans did result in true love, but these did not come without hardship. Women having to choose to leave the land and their families forever to follow their selkie lover to his watery home, and selkie women who gave up their lives to save their human husbands from stormy seas.

And then there were stories of the children that resulted from these mixed unions. Some said you could tell a child who was half selkie by their webbed fingers and toes, and that these children had the ability to converse with the birds and sea creatures. Others contradicted this information and claimed that they looked just like anyone else with no extra abilities, but that the children always had a strong yearning for the sea. But on one aspect they all agreed - the dark colouring of the children that singled them out as different and marked them as a child of the selkie. Katniss wished that more was said about the children but they were always merely a footnote to the main story. No one ever mentioned what happened to them and whether they were able to find their happy-ever-after in the faerie story.

She had left Peeta's book hidden beneath her clothes at the back of her drawer and there it would stay unread in the boarding house for the rest of the weekend. She was finally getting a chance to go home, back to the island, to see Prim and her mother. It was midsummer's eve, and there would be no work today, tomorrow nor the day after that as it would be Sunday. Three whole days off of work and she could not wait to be away from the mainland, leaving behind all thoughts of work and faerie tales.

Prim was waiting for her when the boat docked at the island's small wharf.

"Katniss," she cried, rushing forward and throwing herself into her arms. Katniss hugged her little sister back, feeling happier than she had for weeks, whilst she listened to Prim's excited chatter about that night's celebrations.

"Just wait until you see the bonfire," gushed Prim, "its so much bigger than last year. They've been building it for days! I bet they'll be able to see it from the mainland."

Katniss smiled. As always she was unable to prevent some of her sister's enthusiasm from rubbing off on her. "Come on," Prim said, tugging at her hand. "I'll show you." Katniss allowed her sister to lead her to the grassy expanse of the village green.

Prim was right – the islanders had surpassed themselves this year, although the bonfire didn't compare with the one she had seen being prepared on the mainland, it was certainly the largest she could remember on the island.

A maypole festooned with ribbons and garlands of greenery, had been erected at one side of the village green, and a small group of children were playing round it, mimicking the dancing that would be performed there later. Food and drink stalls were being set up and a spit for a hog roast was being prepared. By late afternoon, the green would be bustling with people singing and dancing, and as the evening drew on the celebrations would continue with merrymaking of every kind until the last reveler was too exhausted to continue. Tonight was the night of the midnight sun, when true darkness was at its shortest, making it possible for the festivities to easily last all night.

As they headed for home, Prim turned to make a detour across the meadow.

"Where are you going?"

Prim turned to look at Katniss as if her big sister were simple-minded. "To pick flowers for our bouquets of course." Upon seeing Katniss' non-compliant face Prim begged, "Please Katniss, it's tradition."

"You know father wouldn't like it, he didn't believe in all this superstition."

"He's not here and everyone else will be doing it. Please, please, pleeeease!"

"Oh, alright," Katniss gave in with a resigned sigh. She never could resist her sister's doe-eyed pleading. Besides, she had so little time with Prim she felt like indulging her.

As they cut through the long grass they bent to pick the wild flowers they needed. Katniss knew the tradition well, although they had never followed it before. They had gotten away with peeling apples at Halloween, as they were able to feign innocence that they were just eating fruit. But everyone knew single girls picked bouquets of wild flowers at the summer solstice in hope of conjuring up the face of their future husbands in their dreams. Prim had tried to do it one year but their father had caught her with the bouquet tucked under her pillow. He had given them both such a heated lecture about the dangers of getting caught up in such pagan rituals that they had not dared try again.

On the way home they selected seven different wild flowers to make up Prim's bouquet. Katniss had no intention of making one herself, she had already had enough dreams of men to last her a lifetime. But once the bouquet was complete Prim split it in two, creating two small bunches. Not wanting to crush her sister's high spirits, Katniss tucked the little posy into her bag, fully intending to dispose of it at the first opportunity.

At the edge of the meadow was a row of cottages sitting on the crest of the hill that looked down to the quayside and beyond to the sea. Outside of one of the cottages was the familiar sight of old Sae mending fishing nets.

She greeted the woman and received a toothless grin in return, the old lady squinting to see who stood there. When she recognised the girls she beckoned her over. "Katniss, lass, sit and keep an old woman company."

Prim offered to run on ahead and let mother know Katniss would be home soon, although Katniss suspected Prim just couldn't wait to place the fortune-telling bouquet under her pillow.

Katniss eased herself down to sit, resting against the wall. She and the old woman swapped pleasantries and news of their respective families. Katniss convinced herself that she was being a friendly neighbour by taking interest in the old lady, but she knew she had an ulterior motive.

Against each story in the notebook, Peeta had recorded the name of the person who had told it to him. She remembered being surprised to see old Sae's name against one of the stories. Sae had recalled a tale to Peeta that her grandmother would tell her as a child, about how after men from the island killed a number of seal pups for their pelts a terrible storm had blown up out of nowhere and ravaged the island. People were trapped in their homes for two nights before the gale died down enough to allow them to venture out. When they did, they discovered their boats smashed to pieces and almost the entire island's sheep herd gone. It was a hard winter for many on the island, and not unheard of for whole families to die of hunger. It was widely accepted that the storm, the destruction and the disappearance were the revenge of the selkie folk.

Katniss was conflicted; she had promised herself only a couple of hours ago not to give any time to thoughts of myths and legends, yet here she was at the first opportunity wanting to talk about the very same things. Furthermore, Katniss was not quite sure how to raise the subject with Sae.

"I saw Peeta, the boy who used to come to the island on the delivery boat. Do you remember him?"

"Aye, that was a sad business alright," said the old lady shaking her head. "Lad was lucky they saw fit to save him that night. He would have been dead in the water without their mercy."

"You mean the story about Peeta being rescued by a selkie? Do you honestly believe that could be true?"

"What do you believe happened, girl?" The old woman watched her intently, waiting for her answer.

"Um…that Peeta was washed ashore?" But as she heard her own faltering voice she knew she wasn't even convincing herself.

The old lady scoffed, picking up her needle again and returning her attention to the net. "So they say. I always thought it was quite some feat for a child to swim all that way in the middle of a storm, broken leg or not." Looking up again briefly, she added "I guess some people just don't want to believe the truth even when it's staring them right in the face."

"How am I supposed to know what the truth is?" Katniss said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. She was annoyed by the old lady's implication that she was too blinkered or too stupid to see the _obvious_ truth. Really was it any wonder when all anyone ever offered her were more nonsensical stories and riddles of things that could not possibly be real.

"The lad told you what happened didn't he?" Sae set down her needle to study Katniss. "What would you rather believe, that a child could escape being dashed to death on the same rocks as his uncle and cousin on his own? If you ask me it's no coincidence that a man who'd been sailing the same waters for over forty years was unable to navigate the rocks on the same night a selkie woman was in the water mourning for the death of her child.

"In the past they knew better than to kill a seal whose eyes seemed too knowing, they knew to respect the selkie and how to placate them when they were angered. People today have forgotten to heed the warnings."

Katniss grew uncomfortable under Sae's scrutiny.

"You need to be careful girl," Sae said giving her a motherly pat on her cheek before adding, "Such a pretty young lass. Aye, I do say you look more like your father with every passing day."

For a brief moment Sae had made her doubt the truth. But now with relief she realised she could dismiss it as the mad ramblings of a confused old woman. Old Sae was mad if she believed that; Katniss knew she looked nothing like her father. She was as dark as he had been fair, and she was small and slight whilst he had been tall and broad.

The old lady must have seen the disagreement on Katniss' face as Sae laughed, showing the gapping space of gums where her teeth should have been. "You ask your mother, lass, if you don't believe me." Chuckling to herself again, before returning her full attention to the nets signaling that the conversation was over.

Katniss was left to walk home with a familiar uneasy feeling in her stomach. Had Sae been hinting at the same thing that Peeta had that day on the beach? That her father was not her real father?

By the time Katniss reached home, Prim had worked herself into a state of agitated excitement. "Katniss, where have you been? You took ages. The others will be here soon."

Right on cue there was a knock on the door and there stood three of Prim's school friends, all rosy cheeked and excited eyes, clearly just as enthusiastic about the celebrations as her sister. "Are you coming?" said Prim eagerly. "If you don't come now you'll miss the dancing."

"It's alright Prim," Katniss said with exaggerated calmness. "I think there will still be some dancing going on by the time I get there. You go on ahead and I'll catch up with you later. I need to speak with mother first."

Katniss found her mother in the kitchen, her back to her, slowly stirring a pot on the stove. Although she could not see her face, Katniss could tell her mother was lost to her own thoughts. Katniss and Primrose had become accustomed to their mother's episodes – she could spend hours, sometimes days, cut off from reality, lost inside her own head. The girls had learned to fend for themselves and Katniss had accepted the reality that she needed to be the family's breadwinner. The episodes had been at their worst directly after the death of their father, but over time, the length and severity of the incidents had lessened. The majority of the time, mother was not affected by them. But there were still occasions when she would retreat into her own mind.

"Mother."

Her mother turned, staring at her daughter with a dazed expression and then, as if awakening from a trance, Katniss saw the recognition spread across her face.

"Katniss, there you are. Prim feared you were lost. Sit down child, and have something to eat."

Katniss took a seat at the kitchen table and rummaged though her bag, while her mother ladled a portion of stew from the pot. As her mother set the steaming bowl before her Katniss passed her the brown envelope she had retrieved from the bag.

"It's not much," she said with a shake of her head, "But hopefully with what you earn from weaving it should help us get through the winter." Her mother smiled weakly and gave her hand a light squeeze before taking the wage packet and tucking it behind the jars in the pantry.

Katniss finished the rest of her stew in silence. She ate because she knew she should be hungry, but there was a knot in her stomach and a bitter taste in her mouth which prevented her from enjoying even one mouthful.

Sae's final comments about her father and the uncomfortable similarity to her argument with Peeta kept going round in her head. The stories in Peeta's notebook that she so much wanted to dismiss as fallacy, everything they had said, it all seemed to point to the same conclusion. One that she wished more than anything could be false. The only person who could give her the answer that she really needed was her mother, but to actually voice the question was to admit that she gave credence the theories.

Absorbed by her anxious thoughts, she jumped as her mother pulled out the seat next to her and sat down.

"What is it Katniss? What's the matter?" she said with motherly concern.

"Nothing." It was a lie and she knew that it would not fool her mother.

Since that day at the beach when Peeta had voiced his beliefs, her mind had been filled with nothing but questions and doubt.

"Come on, Katniss. I know when something is troubling you. Talk to me."

Talk to her! That was what everyone kept telling her to do and here she was pressing her to do the same. Whatever the answer, if Katniss did ask nothing could be the same again. But if she didn't ask then these feelings, these doubts would continue to eat away at her until the next time she saw her mother. Katniss knew she would not find any peace until she knew the truth.

"It's just that…recently, I've been thinking a lot about father." She saw the pained distant look in her mother's eyes, as was often the case when her father was mentioned. She thought about what she had witnessed when she first arrived, how close her mother had been to one of her episodes. She had to ask her now; she could not miss this opportunity and risk losing her mother to the depths of one of her depressions.

"Mother….father…was he?" She swallowed hard, summoning her courage.

"What Katniss?" Her mother encouraged her, with a concerned look.

"My dark hair, mother, my eyes. Where do they come from? I … I don't think that father could really have been … was he really my father?" Her mother looked at her wide-eyed and ashen-faced, frozen in shock. Katniss prayed to herself, _tell me I'm wrong mother, please tell me I'm wrong. Say he was my father, that of course he was my father_.

She waited as she saw the alarm in her mother's face give way to distress. Her eyes screwed shut, her head in her hands, a look of pain on her face.

Finally opening her eyes, she raised her face to Katniss and said "No."

Everything stopped moving. Katniss was unable to breath, certain that her heart had stopped. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall, its hands the only thing still revolving in the world as everything else stood still. It was over. The truth that had been hidden for so long had finally been revealed. The man she called her father was not, and never had been, her father.

"Then who?" It came out as a whisper.

Tears had started to spill from her mother's eyes, shaking her head in remorse. "It was only the once, you have to believe me! I was always honest to your father. It was just that one time."

"Who was he?"

"A sailor."

"Did…did father know?"

"Yes," her mother said, bowing her head.

"So he knew?"

"That you were not his child?" Her mother's face crumpled with silent tears as she nodded. "Yes."

"I told him that the man, that he forced me. And your father…that is Euan, stood by me. He was an honorable man, he married me and brought you up as his own. He loved you as he did Primrose, like you were his own daughter. You must know he loved you."

"But I wasn't honest with him. I lied, the man, your real father, he didn't force me. I willingly laid with him. He was beautiful, just like you. You have the same eyes. I'd never seen anything so beautiful as those grey eyes."

"But I only saw him the once. It was a mistake and I couldn't tell…Euan... he loved me so, and I couldn't do that to him."

"Was...was my father a…" she could hardly believe she was actually going to say it, "Was he a selkie?"

"A selkie!" her mother looked shocked. "What would make you think that? Katniss those are just stories, make believe. Selkie don't exist."

"Are you sure? Who was this man, where did he come from?"

"Just a sailor moored at the coast over night. I was a silly young girl who let her head get turned by a pair of beautiful eyes."

"And did you know his name, this man? Does my father have a name?" Her initial shock had worn off and, although hurt, she was angrier at her mother's betrayal of keeping this lie from both herself and the man she had called father.

"We didn't … I didn't tell him my name and he didn't give me his." She could tell her mother was made uncomfortable by the question.

"You didn't exchange names? What did you do? Did you even talk or was it straight into the act right there on the wharf?"

"Katniss!"

"Well?"

"Of course we talked, and he sang to me. He had the most amazing voice I had ever heard. I swear when he sang it was like all the birds, the crash of the waves, they all fell silent. Nothing else could be heard but his song."

Katniss stood up from the table with such force the chair clattered to the floor. She clutched the table, her eyes tightly shut. The stew she had forced herself to eat only moments ago was threatening to come back up. She needed fresh air.

"Katniss?"

"I have to go. Tell Prim I'm sorry, I just… I just need to go."

"Katniss." Her mother pleaded with repentant eyes.

But for the second time in as many weeks, Katniss found herself running away, whilst someone begged for her to stay.

She ran away from the house, away from the fire that could be seen burning brightly up on the headland, and the sounds that carried in the air of people enjoying the start of the festivities. She ran down to the sea, to the small wharf, where a few small boats bobbed on the current.

She sank to her knees and looked in the direction of the mainland. A mist had settled over the water, painting the horizon a greying white and making it difficult to tell where the sea ended and the sky began, hiding the coast of the mainland from view.

Should she believe her mother's version of the story or should she trust her gut instinct that the man who could silence the birds with his song was more than just a nameless sailor?

Could it be true? Was her real father a selkie? Her mother denied it, but the facts all pointed to it being the truth. Everything Peeta had said, everything Katniss had dismissed as nonsense, that she had been so reluctant to accept, no longer seemed like such insanity. But how would she ever be able to find out the truth?

As she looked out across the water she realised that she did know how to find out. One of Peeta's notes had explained exactly what she needed to do, and there was no better night for it. If one was going to delve into the world of myths and magic then midsummer's eve was the night to do it, when the bond between the magical world and this one was at its strongest. That's why the eligible girls chose this night to hopefully foresee their future husbands in their dreams.****If she were going to do this, then it needed to be now. Surely it being the summer solstice, and with the blood bond that existed between them, surely if she did this it would be him that came.

Katniss quickly scanned the waterfront to ensure she was alone, although it was unnecessary, everyone else was at the bonfire celebrations. Leaning forward she looked down into the inky waters. She summoned up all the thoughts she had been trying to banish over the last week, and let all the emotions that came with them flood her. She remembered all the times as a child that she was made to feel inferior because of the way she looked. She recalled her father and the way she had always tried to pretend he didn't favour Prim, just putting it down to the fact that Prim was the baby of the family. She mourned the discovery of her mother's lies and deceit, which made a mockery of all her happy childhood memories. And finally she allowed herself to think about Peeta and their argument at the beach. She thought about the fact that he had seen her naked and acted as if it bore no interest for him. And she thought about the girls in town with their fair looks and buxom figures that he would prefer. The sorrow and the loss, the humiliation and the inferiority, the anger and the resentment coursed through her and the tears came easily. As they spilt down her face and fell into the ocean she remembered to count until the seventh dropped into the black water.

Sitting up she wiped her eyes with the backs of her fingers, trying to stem the flow. She stared out across the water, trying to recall if she had done enough. She was certain there had been no mention of any incantation in Peeta's book.

She shivered as a chill wind blew in from the sea catching at her hair, and she pulled her shawl from her bag to throw it round her shoulders. She had been a fool to let herself believe in this trickery, of course it was not going to work. It was just a story in a book. She had let herself get caught up in the fanciful stories of an old woman and a delusional boy.

She stood, turning from the water, and straightened her dress. She would go and find Prim at the bonfire and in the morning she would head back to the mainland, as soon as she could find anyone sober enough to skipper a boat.

She was so far away in her own thoughts that the unexpected sound of a man's voice behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin.

"Are you leaving so soon?"

* * *

The midsummer traditions, are a bit of a mish-mash of ones from across Europe. Putting bouquets of 7 flowers under your pillow is apparently something they do in Scandinavia.

Thank you to those who left reviews for the last chapter I really do appreciate it.

And of course thanks to my wonderful beta Katnissinme who is a total star.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

She turned. Standing there in the shallows, water up to his thighs, stood a man. He waded toward her and she gasped, her hand slapping to her mouth, as she saw he was completely bare. She had never seen a man unclothed until this moment and now one was brazenly striding toward her from the water.

The shock of his nudity distracted her before the greater shock of the situation hit her. It had worked; she had successfully managed to summon a selkie. It was all real. Peeta's unwavering faith had not been unfounded. He had been right all this time, selkie did exist.

She struggled to keep her eyes on the man's face, but it was proving to be extremely difficult. Her eyes kept straying over his defined chest and strong arms, but as her gaze dipped lower travelling over his tanned, taut stomach she caught herself before she went to far.

Now at the water's edge she could see he was tall, at least a full head taller than herself. As he came closer she studied his features, comparing them to her own. His skin was the same tone as her skin, his hair was dark like hers and his eyes, although a shade or two darker, were grey and a shape that was uncannily like her own. It was the first person she had ever seen whose features resembled hers, the first other pair of grey eyes. Her mother had said that her father's eyes were like hers. Could he, this stranger, this selkie wading toward her, could he be her father? A fleeting hope that she was about to meet her true father was met with disappointment as she realised that the man before her could not possibly be old enough.

He walked straight toward her, coming to a stop uncomfortably close to her. He ran his hand through his dark hair, pushing the wet strands from his forehead before crossing his arms in an arrogant stance. He did not hide the way he looked her up and down, nor the interest in his dark eyes.

"I would not have thought a pretty maid like you would need to seek company on a night like this." With a slight nod in the direction of the town's bonfire he added, "Are there none there whose attention satisfies you?" He moved closer then, his face coming toward hers. And she realised his intention a second before it was too late.

"What are you doing?" she cried, taking a step back.

He laughed at her shocked face. "There's no need to be coy. There's only one reason a human woman summons a selkie man. I'm just not always so pleased with the company as I am tonight."

"Well," she said with shocked indignation, "That's not the reason I asked you to come."

"No? What do you want then girl? Why have you called me here?" His amused look was quickly dissipating.

Katniss guessed that he was used to easily intimidating others, but his presumption as to her reason for calling him had filled her with such annoyance there was no space left for an emotion such as fear. "I was hoping you would be someone else." She replied.

"Really?" His interest in her piqued once more**.** "This isn't the first time you've done this then? Someone has been keeping you a secret, have they?" She felt his eyes rake over her once more as he appraised her.

His gaze and his naked form were making her more than a little self conscious. If she were going to talk to him then she needed to get rid of the distractions. "Could you put this on please," she said, unwinding the shawl from her shoulders and holding it out to him.

Taking the shawl from her he enquired, "Where exactly would you like me to wear it?" Clearly he was entertained by the discomfort his nakedness caused her.

She started to explain, pointing to where she wanted him to tie it, before she quickly remembered herself and snapped her eyes shut. But not before she saw him, again**. **Hearing him laugh, she scowled, cross with herself for allowing him to tease her.

She swallowed, trying to regain her composure and remember why she had called him.

"I was trying to contact my father." He said nothing but frowned and waited for her to continue.

"I think that he was a selkie? I was hoping that it would be him that came." He remained silent so she added, "Is there anyway you could find him? Do you know who he could be?"

The selkie laughed then. "You think they'll be queuing up to claim you do you? We selkie aren't blessed with a particularly strong paternal streak."

"But you could ask?" she suggested.

"And why should I do that?"

She remembered that Peeta had written about buying favours from selkies, but she had no silver to offer him. Perhaps if she could appeal to his good nature in some way. She thought of the one person for whom she would do absolutely anything and hoped his belief in family duty was a strong as hers.

"I could be your sister."

"I sincerely hope not. Besides I would be able to sense it if we were kin."

"What do you mean? How would you sense it?"

"As the seals use their ability to detect disturbances in the ocean to track fish, so too can we sense the movements of others and follow where they have been. It is especially strong for those with which we have an affinity, a bond. We can feel if we have a kinship with another selkie."

"And can you sense…can you tell if I'm a selkie?"

"I think you already know the answer to that." he said dismissively.

Did she? She wasn't sure. She was here talking to a mythical being wasn't she? If that part of Peeta's claim was true, then why not all of it? Had she not already admitted her belief when she enacted the rite to call forth the selkie? She wanted to hear the words from his mouth confirming her suspicions, but it was clear from his demeanour that this would not happen.

"Will you help me find my father?"

"And what's in it for me?"

"I don't have any silver, if you're hoping for payment."

"I don't want your money."

"What do you want?" she asked uneasily.

"I'm sure I can think of something before the next time we meet." He said with a wicked glint in his eye. Her eyes widened, scared of what he might request, but this was not a time to lose courage.

"So you will ask?"

"I will, but I can not promise you that any will be willing to acknowledge you as their own."

"And how shall I speak with you again?"

"You know how to contact me. Wait until the moon is full again, that should give me time to make enquiries. Next time make sure that you call my name – Gale."

Katniss wondered if selkie were given names that matched their temperament. Did he share the dark volatility of a storm? She could easily picture him as a forceful tempest, full of uncontrollable violence, and hoped that it was something she never experienced.

"So if you're sure that's all you want, I'll be on my way." Raising his eyebrows in question and then, when she did not respond, he gave a shrug of indifference and turned to leave.

"Wait!" He paused as she called out. "I do want something else."

She saw his self-satisfied smirk as he started back towards her. "No. Not that!" She corrected him quickly, "I want to know if you can help me get back to the mainland?"

He looked a little put out. "If you're really a selkie child you can swim there yourself. "

"Maybe I could but not in these clothes and these are my only boots," she said indignantly. "They will be ruined and sodden. I would never get them dry before work on Monday."

"And what would you have me do? Carry them across for you?"

"What, balanced on the end of your nose, like a circus act?"

He glared at her, making her fear she had gone too far in comparing him to a performing seal, before he let out a barking laugh and she felt herself relax in relief. She was certain that he was unaccustomed to others speaking to him in such a manner, that they were usually much more intimidated by him. The truth was he did frighten her, but she would be damned if she was going to let him know that.

"What do you suggest?"

"Guide me in a row boat. I can row but I need you to tow me in the right direction clear of the rocks." Squaring her shoulders and pulling herself up to full height she looked him straight in the eye and asked, "So, will you help me or not?"

"Alright, I will, but it will cost you."

"What do you want?"

"A kiss, when we reach the other side."

Katniss hesitated. She had never kissed a man before. This was not the way she had imagined she would lead up to it and Gale was not the one she had pictured kissing. But she wanted more than anything to be off the island. She desperately needed to escape the jovial celebrations, her mother's deceit and the sham of her childhood. She regretted abandoning Prim when they had spent so little time together, but she convinced herself it was better for her sister this way. She did not want her dark mood to spoil Prim's evening and she certainly did not want to explain what had caused it. Even with Prim, the island no longer felt like home and any guilt she felt was outweighed by her desire to be free of it as soon as she could.

She nodded, with an ill feeling that she had made a deal with the very devil himself.

Removing her boots first and then holding her skirt high she waded to the nearest boat and untied it. Before she even had a chance to pick up the oars, the row-boat was moving. She could just see the sleek dark head in the water, the taut rope stretching towards it, as they cut through the waves at a pace greater than she had expected. And she marveled at how strong Gale must be.

It seemed no time at all before the bonfire on the mainland loomed above them on the cliffs. The boat was pushed up onto the shingle beach and she stepped from it.

Gale appeared beside her again, holding out her soaked shawl. "Here, I should have given this to you, before." He stood naked before her again.

But rather than blush she felt the blood drain from her face with dread as she tried to keep her eyes firmly on his face. He had fulfilled his part of the deal, now it was her turn. He would be waiting for her to kiss him.

He took another step toward her, until their faces were almost touching. She could smell the sea on him, feel the chill of the water on his finger tips as his powerful hand cupped her face. She stared into his eyes, entranced by the depth of their darkness. He was not going to wait for her to offer up her end of the bargain; rather he was going to claim his reward.

His lips touched hers and every noise was amplified. The crashing of the waves against the shore, the wind around them, the pounding of her heart and the very sound of the blood pumping though her body.

His kiss was just as his name would lead her to believe. His mouth met hers with the full intensity of a storm. The lips which moved against hers were strong and forceful, and it terrified her how much they both scared and excited her. She felt a heat moving through her body that she could not control and she wanted more. She felt him take a hold of her braid angling her face to allow him full access, her lips opened in shock and as she did so his tongue took possession of her mouth. Rather than protest, she met him with equal intensity in a well-matched duel. She wanted this growing fire inside her to consume him, she wanted to be consumed.

But suddenly it was over. Her cheeks felt barren, exposed to the cool night air. She swayed, half stunned by what had happened, eyes still shut, lips still parted, feeling bereft from the loss of his touch.

She heard Gale's dry laugh, "Definitely not my sister."

But when she opened her eyes she stood alone.

What had she done! Her head spun. Not stopping to put on her boots, she raced bare foot through quiet streets to the boarding house. It was eerily quiet, it was still early and everyone else was still at the midsummer's eve festivities.

Fully clothed she fell on her bed, overcome with the events of the day. She closed her eyes, trying to will the thoughts away. Sae's comments about her father, her mother's confession, the revelation that selkies were not a figment of Peeta's imagination. But how could she tell him that she knew? How could she tell him about Gale. The kiss, the all consuming kiss and the fire that had coursed through her veins. It scared her. She had not wanted to kiss Gale but somehow it had taken over her senses. Had it been her true desire or had he betwiched her?

She thought about how her mother had been near ruined by such an encounter. Although she had loved her betrothed she had been willing to give it all away for one brief night. Had she, too, been enchanted by the lust in a selkie's eyes, had her mother not been in full control of herself?

She realised with horror that she could never tell Peeta. She could not deny that she had wanted him to be her first kiss, for him to kiss her the way he did in her dreams. But there was no taking back what had happened.

She stared at the cracks in the ceiling until the despair and fatigue overtook her and her eyes closed.

* * *

She woke with a scream on her lips. The dream had started the same. The same familiar vision that visited her every night now. But as she neared the shore, finding her way back to the safety of Peeta's arms, the light that always surrounded him was snuffed out. She flayed in darkness, lost in the arms of the ocean.

She scrabbled at the edge of the dock, not able to get a firm grasp. She tried to cry out as she was dragged back into the waves. Instead of the safety of Peeta's warm arms and his promises of protection, she found herself bound in the water, held tight in a strong grasp, pressed against cold, hard, naked flesh as Gale's voice whispered darkly in her ear "You belong with me now."

She ran her hand across her cheek, it hurt and she could feel the indent on her face where she had fallen asleep on the buckle of her bag. Terror coursed through her as she stared at the bag that had been her accidental pillow. With trembling hands she ripped it open, then frantically shook its contents out over the bed. Snatching up the accursed item she screamed as she threw it with all her might across the room, before she tore from the boarding house and out into the night, leaving the prophesying posy of wild flowers in ruins on the floor.

* * *

**NOTES:**

Thank you again to Katnissinme for her wonderful betaing of this chapter.

And thank you so much to everyone who left lovely reviews for the last chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one, even though its a bit short. Sorry to all those who were hoping it was going to be Finnick!


	10. Chapter 10

Peeta blinked in the half-light of his room. He must have fallen asleep; he had only meant to lie down for a moment and rest. He had not been sleeping well of late, not since that day on the beach, and the mugs of ale he had drunk earlier had made him tired.

He looked at the sky through the open curtains, trying to guess how long he had been asleep, it was not yet dark. He had not been sorry to come back early from the celebrations. He had not been in the mood to enjoy himself or watch other people being merry and having a good time.

He had not been able to shirk the dark cloud he had been under since his argument with Katniss. He had hoped, although perhaps unrealistically, that Katniss would read his notebook and come to talk to him, but he had heard nothing from her. She had made it clear that she wanted him to leave her alone. So, to respect her wishes, he had avoided the docks during his delivery route, but he could not evade his thoughts of her. It was stupid that it should hurt to lose something that had not been his in the first place.

He kept replaying that day on the beach over and over. Pin-pointing the exact moment when he had let himself get swept up in his excitement at thinking she would understand, the moment when he had ruined everything. How could he have thought that Katniss would have been keen to discuss such a matter? Having essentially cast aspersions on her parentage**, **he was not surprised that she wanted nothing more to do with him.

If he had not raised the subject, if they had spoken about something else, where would they be now? Would they be friends? Although unthinkable now, there was a point on the beach when it had not seemed such an impossibility.

That day he had struggled to act like nothing was wrong, that he was unaffected by her, and it had seemed to be working. He wondered if she had any idea how hard he had needed to fight to control the emotions warring inside him; mortified at being found shamefully looking at her whilst at the same time undeniably aroused by her natural beauty.

He had not wanted her to flee after dressing as he had been sure that if she left then she would never look him in the face again. The humiliation that he had seen her nude would have forever stood as a barrier between them. He had prayed that by acting as if nothing had happened she would feel comfortable enough to stay and talk. And beyond hope it had been working.

When she had shown interest in his drawings, he had rejoiced, thankful that it had relieved some of the tension. If only he had been able to show her more of his sketches, then perhaps their discussion would not have moved on to the topic of their argument. But he had not wanted Katniss to discover that the latter pages of his book were filled with pictures of her. Remembered images of her face deep in concentration at work and page after page devoted to capturing her smile from that day at the bakery.

When she had sat down next to him to eat lunch it was more than he could ever have hoped for. And then in the next breath he had gone and ruined it all.

He tried as best as he could to banish the thoughts during the day, throwing himself into his work in an attempt to keep his mind occupied and exhaust himself enough to achieve a dreamless sleep. Even his mother seemed happier than usual with his productivity. But his hopes of keeping thoughts of Katniss at bay were futile. Left to his own devices, alone in his room, they all came crashing back in. And not just those where he berated himself for his stupidity. He had to shamefully admit that she was often the last thought in his head at night and it was far from innocent.

Late at night he let himself recall her full naked glory in vivid detail. Every curve, every line of her body. The colour of her skin, imagining it soft and smooth under his touch. He indulged in the memories, allowing himself to take pleasure in the images of her.

Peeta was pulled from his thoughts with a jump, by a clatter against the window-pane, and he wondered if that was what had woken him.

With a yawn he crossed to the window. He was confused at first, unable to see what could have made the noise, until he saw a figure crouched below. It was a girl, he could see the back of her head and the dark line of a braid that hung down her back.

Was it her? Could it really be Katniss?

He was still staring out the window with an astonished expression when she stood, took aim and let the loose gravel fly. He watched as her mouth formed a startled 'oh' as she noticed him standing there. He raised his hand to wave, feeling embarrassed by how awkward and wooden his gesture felt. And then even more embarrassed when Katniss, on seeing that he was not moving, had to point, indicating that she wanted him to come down. He cursed his stupidity as he descended the wooden staircase as quickly as he could. Apprehensively he paused before he opened the door. Had she read his notebook? Was she ready to talk? He did not want to raise his hopes, after all she could just be here to shout at him again. Part of him did not care - even being screamed at was preferable to her treating him as if he did not exist. He ran his hands through his sleep-mussed hair in an attempt to neaten it and straightened his shirt before he opened the door. There she stood, her hair slightly disheveled and an anxious look in her eyes that concerned him, "Katniss, are you alright? Why are you here?"

She looked surprised by the question, as if she had not considered her reason for being there. "I thought perhaps you might like to go to the bonfire?" she said hesitantly, "With…with me?"

He was shocked by her question. Of all the things he had expected her to say, that was not one of them. Recovering quickly he nodded, "Yes, of course." She smiled, looking relieved.

He looked to the walking stick that leant against the inside of the doorframe. He knew Katniss had seen him with it before, but he was still loath to take it. His mother moaned that he walked too slowly without his stick, complaining of what an inconvenience it was to be accompanied by such an incompetent hobbledehoy. He did not want Katniss to be irritated by his slow pace and so, reluctantly, he picked up his stick, hating himself for needing it in front of her.

They walked in relative silence toward the high ground at the headland where the huge bonfire had been built over the last week. As they climbed the hill path he watched her out of the corner of his eye. He had no idea what had caused her change of heart and brought her to his door, but something had happened. A part of him did not want to know what it was that had driven her to seek his company. If he asked, if he popped the bubble of blissful ignorance, then he would not be able to recreate it again. He would risk ruining the moment and her running again.

But something had happened, he could see that she was clearly troubled by the way she constantly worried her bottom lip between her teeth and the crease that formed between her brows. Peeta wanted so much to ignore it, to avoid the question that lay heavy on his tongue.

_Ask her tomorrow_, he urged himself, _don't worry about the past or the future. Why can't you just enjoy this moment here with her and ask for nothing more than tonight?_ But he could not ignore that something ailed her and he could not bear to see her distressed.

"Katniss?" She turned to him and he saw a confused and vulnerable girl, not the one from the beach with more fire in her than a dozen men. He wanted to shield her in his arms and protect her from whatever it was that she feared.

"Please tell me what the matter is. Why did you really come to see me tonight?"

The conflict was plain on her face, uncertain whether to confide in him. He was sure that whatever she was not telling him was what had brought her to his door that evening.

"You can trust me."

"I know." He patiently watched her deliberate.

"I believe you Peeta. I believe everything you said, it was true."

His mind raced to comprehend, what she was trying to say, his mind filled with a thousand questions at once whilst his body and mouth belonged to an imbecile who could only manage one word.

"Everything?"

She nodded. "I spoke to my mother, I questioned her about my father." She paused to take a deep breath before continuing, her words tumbling out in a rush.

"She told me that my father wasn't my real father and that he knew. He knew I wasn't his, that my mother had been with another and yet he still chose to stay with her. But he didn't know that she had given herself willingly to the other man."

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, calming herself, and he could see from the tremble in her bottom lip and chin she was close to tears.

Peeta pulled her aside off of the path and under the cover of a group of trees. The open land where the fire burned brightly was still some way ahead. If anyone passed them on their journey there, they would presume them to be nothing more than two young lovers stealing clandestine kisses. He could not stop the stab of sadness he felt knowing that the presumption would be wrong, that this was not the truth. The thought made him feel selfish; what Katniss needed now was a friend.

"Katniss." She looked so small, so broken. "How do you feel about what your mother said? Are you alright?"

She stared dumbfounded, his question having clearly thrown her. "I…," she shook her head, "I don't know. I don't know who I am or what to feel anymore."

Again he wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would be alright, but he was too much of a coward to act on his impulse.

"Katniss, just because the man you called your father did not share your blood doesn't make him any less your father. We can't choose our families, we get dealt that hand at birth, be it good or bad. But he, your father, he chose you. He chose you when he stood by your mother and married her. He chose to love you as a daughter. And the love, the care, all the good memories that you shared, whatever happens now or in the future doesn't change that. He was still your father."

He watched as she fought hard to hold her tears back, but still a few broke through and ran down her cheeks. His hand twitched, wanting to reach out and wipe them away.

But instead he watched as she brushed them away with the back of her hand as she tried to compose herself. She sniffed back her tears as she said quietly with a sad smile, "Thank you, Peeta."

"You can always talk to me, you know that don't you? No matter what, you can tell me."

She opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it again and just nodded. For the second time that evening he felt that there was something she was holding back. She said she trusted him but he was sure there was something else she was keeping secret. But he didn't want to force the issue, he felt that if he pushed too far too soon she would run again.

"Come on," he said gently, motioning for them to head up to the bonfire. "I think you could do with a drink."

He turned just as she spoke again. "Peeta," he looked back and met her anxious eyes, "There is something else." He watched her teeth chew on her lip again before she continued.

"I contacted a selkie. I did what it said in your book and I called one to me."

"You saw a selkie!" he exclaimed, too stunned to care that his mouth still hung open in disbelief.

"From what my mother said, the way she described my father - that he had eyes like mine, the way he sang to her. I… I think what you said on the beach…I think it was true. I think my real father was a selkie. My mother denied it, but I had to find out, I had to know if it was true."

"I thought if I summoned one it would be him, my father."

"And was it him?"

"No. No, it wasn't him. But the man, the selkie, he said he would ask for me. He wasn't hopeful, but there's a possibility that he may be able find my father."

"I knew it that first time I saw you," Peeta said, "when I heard you sing you were so beautiful I was certain of it. But to hear you say it still seems incredible. "

"I should have trusted you, that day on the beach. I should have listened to you."

He shook his head, "Why should you have? You had no reason to believe the word of the village madman."

"But it was true! I should not have screamed at you the way I did. I'm sorry."

"Katniss, it's me who should be apologizing. The things I said, the insensitive way I spoke to you, were unacceptable."

"Perhaps we can both agree to forgive each other then?" she suggested with a smile, and then looking in the direction of the bonfire, she added, "Shall we? I think we both need a drink now.""

"Definitely!" He laughed in agreement.

They walked amiably side by side, Katniss' face looking visibly lighter after her confession. But the little crease between her brows still remained, and Peeta wondered if there was something else she had not shared with him, something that still lay heavy on her mind.

A strange pale twilight hung over the area; it would not be dark until much later, this being the shortest night of the year. Even if it had been dark, the light cast by the massive fire was far reaching.

They wandered across the field towards the festivities. Most of the children were now in bed and the maypole ribbons fluttered in the breeze, forgotten for another year. The majority of people were already merry with hours of drinking, although there was still a good deal of mead and ale being drunk. Couples were dancing to the music of the fiddle and drum, but more often than not people had split into smaller groups around campfires listening to others play and sing.

They weaved among the crowds, heading toward the bonfire to observe its vast size. Even from a distance they could feel its heat on their faces. They ventured closer and Peeta watched Katniss stretch her hands out towards the fire, feeling its warmth on her fingers, and he found himself captivated by her beauty, the glow of the flickering flames reflected in her face.

Peeta was glad he had enough money in his pocket to buy them both a drink of warm spiced ale although she refused his offer of food. The man behind the food stall recognised him, and Peeta knew he had seen him at the celebrations earlier.

"You're a dark horse aren't you? Two girls in one day!" the man said good-humouredly joshing him. "Who would have thought you had it in you, eh?"

Peeta smiled at the man and said nothing, glad that Katniss was out of earshot.

His mother had insisted that he take Magdalena to the festival earlier that evening. He had wanted to refuse but her father was also pushing them to go and he had not wanted to get her into trouble. Magdalena had been polite and friendly but he could tell she did not want to be there with him any more than he did with her.

When he had seen her lock eyes with the man he recognised as her true admirer, and the sorrow reflected in the young man's eyes, he had put a stop to the charade.

"Magdalena?" His question had broken her from her longing stare.

"Sorry, Peeta."

"It's alright."

"No, it's not. I promise you, I'll be an honest and faithful wife to you Peeta." She had insisted sadly.

_No you won't,_ he had promised himself, _I won't let you_. He could see no reason why they should both be miserable in the proposed sham marriage.

"Go Magdalena, quickly, before someone sees you."

"Peeta?" She had stared in stunned disbelief.

"Go on, he's waiting for you," he had urged her.

Magdalena had smiled and then, pressing a kiss to Peeta's cheek, she had whispered, "Thank you," before running to join her lover.

He had watched them disappear into the wooded copse, where shrieks and giggling could be heard. Young girls, their heads adorned with flower wreaths, were being chased between the trees by their sweethearts, hoping to be caught. Tradition dictated that if, by the time the couple ventured out of the woods, the man was wearing the girl's wreath they were engaged. The engagements often didn't stand the test in the sober light of day but no one cared about that tonight.

Midsummer was always a time for young lovers, and he had not belonged amongst them. So being especially careful to avoid the bakery and the wrath of his mother, who would certainly have been livid to discover him home alone so early, he had returned to his room.

But here he was, unbelievably, with Katniss. As Peeta walked back to where Katniss stood, he realised that their presence would not go unnoticed. Most people in town knew of him at least as the baker's youngest son, if not by name. The stall owners from which he bought the hog roast had their bread rolls supplied by the Mellark bakery. He was sure word of his evening and more likely his companion would reach his mother's ears in the coming days, but tonight he didn't care. He was happy to just enjoy the moment.

He noticed how Katniss watched him with hungry eyes as he took a bite of the roasted hog sandwich. He offered it to her, insisting, "You must try this, it's delicious." She obliged and he felt a warm contentment at seeing her heartily eating and left her to finish the roll.

A voice from behind caused him to jump and he realised he had been caught staring at Katniss, mesmerised by her.

"Well what do we have here?" It was Joanna, one of the more outspoken girls from the gutting crews that he knew by sight. "Katniss, I thought you'd gone home," she said, looking between them with a questioning smirk on her face. Katniss' murderous glare in response was a threat to the other girl to say no more.

Joanna just laughed. "Well, seeing as you're here come an' join us. I was just replenishing these," and she held up the pottery jugs of ale she carried. She walked off, calling back over her shoulder, "Come on, bring the baker with you."

She led them to a small group around a campfire. Peeta recognised a couple of the other girls and some of the fishermen, but no one that he knew by name other than Joanna and her friend Annie. She was nestled against a handsome fisherman who had his arm slung over her shoulders in a protective fashion. One of the men had a fiddle and another a tin whistle, and a few of the others were singing and keeping a beat with their hands on their knees.

"You've a good set of pipes," Jo said to Katniss. "Sing me a song! These girls," she laughed at the men singing, "Sound worse than my toothless grandmother after she's been at the whisky jar."

"Better than looking like her," Annie's fisherman threw back. Nonplussed Jo laughed and stuck her tongue out at him.

The man playing the fiddle asked Katniss if she knew a song that Peeta didn't recognise. She looked uncomfortable and tried to decline, but the others cheered encouragement and the fiddle and whistle had already picked up the tune. She looked truly uncomfortable, her hesitancy more than just shy reluctance. But it was obvious that the others, being three sheets to the wind already, were not going to give up until she sang.

She stole a sideways glance at him and he returned it with what he hoped was a sympathetic smile. Without thinking he placed a reassuring hand on top of hers. Instantly aware of what he had done his heart raced with alarm. He was suddenly incredibly conscious of her body next to his on the log where they sat. His hand atop of hers felt abnormally heavy, his breathing too loud, and he was afraid to move even a muscle but he could not withdraw his hand now. And she had not pulled hers away. He watched as she closed her eyes and began to sing.

The crackle of the fire, the laughs and shouts from the surrounding revelers were all gone, even the music of the instruments had faded into the still of the night air. All that was left was Katniss and the beautiful sound of her voice:

_There lies a man of my heart_

_a fine and complete work of art_

_here I, his woman, his home and his heart_

_and proud to be playing that part_

_..._

_Rest in the bed of my bones_

_all that I have is a home_

_and all you can do is promise me bold_

_that you won't let me grow dark or cold_

_as long as we both shall live_

_..._

_The first hill is the hardest I'm sure_

_where all shadows come to the shore_

_know that it's you and I to the end_

_and all I want from life is to hold your hand_

_..._

_The sirens come, they always will_

_but the dart between my heart and his_

_is as good as a diamond chain_

_..._

_Rest in the bed of my bones_

_All that I want is a home_

_And all you can do is promise me bold_

_That you won't let me grow dark or cold_

_As long as we both shall live._

_..._

His heart stuck in his throat as he listened to the words of the song. It was madness but he inexplicably felt that the song was about them. He looked at the others in the circle, sure that it would be obvious to them, that somehow they would be able to tell what he was thinking or read it in his face. But they showed no awareness and he had to remind himself that he was being ridiculous.

After the song ended the group pestered Katniss to sing a couple more. And still she did not take her hand away.

After the third song she declined to sing any more, "I'm tired, I think I'll head back to the boarding house."

"OK," said Joanna, giving them a knowing look. "I'll see you in the morning."

Peeta rose to his feet with her. Her hand still remained in his and his heart swelled with pride. He did not want to hide, even if his mother would find out, he did not care who saw them.

Walking back down the hill they had to pass by the bakery to get to the boarding house. He paused at the end of the alley and he saw a look of uncertainty cross her face.

"It's alright," she said. He saw what he thought was a flicker of disappointment before her face turned hard and she dropped his hand. "I can make it home from here. I don't need you to walk me."

"No. I want to walk with you. It's just that I have something for you," he reassured her quickly. He had bought her a small token planning, if he had the courage to visit her, to offer it as a way of making peace.

"Something for me?" She looked stunned.

He shifted uncomfortably, fearing he had raised her expectations and she would be disappointed. "Its not much, I just thought it would be useful".

They walked in silence to the storehouse behind the bakery. He unlocked the door and headed up the dark stairs. Lighting the lamp he opened his drawer and started to rummage though the clothes under which he had hidden the gift.

* * *

Katniss watched as Peeta unlocked the door and entered into the darkness. She stood in the open doorway listening to Peeta's footsteps as he climbed the stairs.

Left alone she begun to dwell on the guilt she had carried all evening. She had not told Peeta the whole truth about her encounter with Gale. But how could she?

Part of her had not wanted to tell Peeta about Gale at all, but the need to talk to someone had been too great. And who else did she have to talk to, who else would believe her and understand? Besides, it had felt surprisingly good to confide in him, even if it had not been a complete confession. She tried to convince herself that she had not actually lied to Peeta, just omitted some of the truth. She did not want what she had with Peeta to be tainted with lies or thoughts of Gale.

But then, what did she really have with Peeta, what was she to him? He had been kind to her from the beginning but before tonight they had not been real friends, just acquaintances. Still the kiss had felt deceitful, as if by kissing Gale she had been unfaithful. A betrayal to the Peeta that she kissed in her dreams and to the real one whose hand she had held this evening. The real one with whom, she realised, she wanted to be more than just a friend.

One of the songs that she had sung that evening had been replaying in a loop in her mind since they left the bonfire and she found herself nervously humming it to distract herself from her thoughts.

_There's a house across the river, but alas. I cannot swim_

_And a garden of such beauty that the flowers seem to grin_

_There's a house across the river, but alas, I cannot swim_

_I'll live my life regretting that I never jumped in_

_..._

_There's a boy across the river with short curly hair_

_He wants to be my lover and I want to be his peer_

_There's a boy across the river but alas, I cannot swim_

_And I never will get to put my arms around him_

_..._

She glanced nervously into the building. She had expected Peeta to be back by now. She hovered in the doorway, suddenly unsure whether he had meant for her to follow. Was he waiting for her at the top wondering why she was taking so long?

She could see the light leaking under the door at the top of the stairs, her heart was drumming so loudly she was sure Peeta would be able to hear it from his room.

She slowly entered the building and hesitantly reached for the rickety handrail, feeling it wobble a little under her hand. Then slowly and quietly she climbed the stairs.

She reached Peeta's door just as he opened it. He jumped, not expecting to see her there. She cursed herself; of course he had expected her to wait downstairs, and she felt stupid for thinking otherwise. If he had wanted her to come up he would have invited her.

Recovering from the surprise, he handed her the brown paper bag he carried.

"It's not much," he reiterated sounding apologetic, obviously worried about what she expected.

She opened the paper bag and pulled out the small glass jar like the ones she had seen in the apothecary window. She turned it over in her hands but it had no label.

"It's lanolin," he explained. "I wasn't sure if you had any already."

She shook her head. "Its good for protection from the salt water and the wind and weather," he continued. "I know a lot of the girls use it to keep their skin soft - you know your hands, your face, your lips."

He stopped looking embarrassed, the flush that flooded his cheeks clearly evident in the lamplight.

Katniss found that her eyes were fixed on his lips soft, pink, full. The words of the song were practically screaming in her head.

...

_There's a boy across the river but alas, I cannot swim_

_And I never will get to put my arms around him…_

_I'll live my life regretting that I never jumped in_

_.._

She didn't want to live a lifetime of regret that she had missed her chance, that she would never get to put her arms around him – so she _jumped in_ and kissed him.

* * *

Notes:

I am not a song writer so I used the following songs, for which I can take absolutely no credit (also take no credit for the creation of Peeta and Katniss but presume if you're reading a Hunger Games fanfic you already know that).

_**Rest in the bed – Laura Marling**_

_**Alas I can not swim – Laura Marling**_ – played like this live version, I like to think of them all round the campfire stomping their feet to the fast bit. www . youtube watch?v=4UkP1uB1nLU (take out the spaces)

I also imagine the third song being _**I'm a man you don't meet everyday**_ for no other reason than I like it! www . youtube watch?v=FJt4y4fH938

Thank you to everyone who left a review for the last chapter, glad you enjoyed it and sorry to those who didn't. But hope that this chapter goes some way to alleviate the fear that some people had about this becoming a Katniss/Gale lovefest. Although Gale will be back!

Thanks again to Katnissinme for her fantastic betaing and for making me do rewrite - you were right!

p.s. I've had a few problems with tonight so hope this uploads ok.


	11. Chapter 11

Katniss was kissing him! Peeta's head reeled as he tried to comprehend what was happening. How often had he hoped and wished and dreamt of this very thing? But this was not a dream; she was there in his bedroom and she was kissing him.

As she pulled away, he realised he had been so shocked by her bold and sudden move that he had stood there dumbstruck, making no attempt to return her kiss. He saw the hurt and embarrassment in her face and so acted quickly. He took Katniss' face in his hands and kissed her, kissed her so there could be no doubt in her mind how much he wanted this, how much he wanted her_._ Stumbling in his eagerness he inadvertently pinned her to him as the force of his kiss pushed them both back against the wall.

He pulled back, his heart pounding in his chest, unable to believe what he had just done. He stared at her with wide-eyed shock, bracing himself for her reaction. Peeta had reasoned that the handholding earlier had been her way of saying she forgave him for their fight at the beach, convinced that she could want nothing more than to be friends. With horror he considered the possibility that now he had misread her intention behind the kiss, that it had been merely a thank you for her gift, and that he had confused it for something more.

She could not have wanted him to kiss her like that. _What's wrong with you, Mellark?_ He inwardly chastised himself, _You pushed her up against the wall for Christ's sake!_

His heart sank. He had done it again, just as everything had been going well, he had ruined it. He only hoped that if he apologised profusely enough he could, somehow, make them both forget this had ever happened. But before he could even think of adequate words to make it right, Katniss took hold of his shirt. He staggered forward as she abruptly tugged him to her and her lips crashed against his again.

There was no doubt this time - he was absolutely certain friends did not kiss like that.

He felt the sensation of her tongue slide along his lower lip. Their mouths parted, and their tongues joined each other as the heat of their kiss grew. His mind may have still been stunned, but his body reacted instinctively, an expert in what it wanted to do from night after night of fantasising of being with her like this.

He let himself enjoy the curve of her body under his hands as they slid over her hips. His palms smoothed over the round of her backside before grasping her, his fingers squeezing into her soft malleable flesh. Her legs parted further in response and he could not contain the low moan he emitted as she pressed herself to him**.**

Her mouth claimed his again and as her tongue danced with his he felt her hands run across his back before she gripped the material of his shirt. He wanted her even closer. Running his hand down her leg he cradled her thigh in his hand, hooking it up on his hip, and she complied by wrapping it around him. Peeta felt a shot of alarm as he thrust against her involuntarily, but instead of pulling away as he had feared she would, she arched toward him as he heard her breath grow heavy.

His mouth fell upon the exposed skin of her neck as her head fell back, offering herself to him. He heard her ragged intake of breath as his mouth travelled down her neck. He remembered the way he had imagined doing the very same thing on the beach. The body that he had witnessed naked that day was now beneath his hands and the sensory combination of the real and the fantasy was overwhelming. As he felt himself swell and strain against the constraints of his clothes, he tried to stifle his moan in the crook of her neck.

One moment he was lost to everything except the amazing feeling of her in his arms, her body beneath his hands, her lips on his, and then the next he was crashing back to reality. He felt the muscle in his leg lock and then suddenly give, his knee buckling under the weight of her leg on his. Not enough to cause him to fall, but enough to break the intensity of their embrace. Enough to remind him of his deficiencies, lest he forget who and what he was. Peeta closed his eyes, not bearing to see the look of disappointment that was surely on her face as she was brought back to her senses and realised she could not possibly want this with him. He hung his head, holding back the tears of self-loathing that stung at his eyes.

"Peeta." He prepared himself for the inevitable rejection. Would she let him down gently, he wondered, or just give an excuse to make a hasty escape? Perhaps he should just make it easy for her.

"It's alright, Katniss. I never really thought that this…I never expected you to want me." The words kept getting stuck in his throat, not wanting to be said, but he forced himself to speak them. "I understand if you want to go."

"Peeta," she sounded insulted, "I don't want to go. Do you really think I would leave now because of your leg? Do you really think me that shallow?"

It was hard to believe that she was not bothered by what had happened. From his experience most girls did care about his injury, at least the girls from the other merchant families, girls he had gone to school with. And his mother made sure to remind him on a daily basis what a hindrance it was, how it made him a lesser man. But he saw no mockery or pity in Katniss' face as she watched him intently, waiting for his answer.

"Peeta," she said, reaching for his hand, "I don't regret kissing you. I don't want to leave, I want to be here. I want you."

This time it was no accident when he pushed her back against the wall as he kissed her, and the heat of her returning kiss quelled any doubts he harboured.

When they broke apart, their breathing laboured, a smile spread across her face. He returned it with the knowledge that the way he felt about her was absolute, he would never feel for another girl what he felt for Katniss now.

Her eyes flicked to the bed, and taking his hand she led him to it and motioned for him to sit. She knelt to unlace and remove his boots then taking off her own she placed the two pairs side by side under the bed, before she stood again.

He watched spellbound as she reached behind her, unfastened her dress and let it fall to the ground. She stood before him in her long chemise slip, underwear and long woolen stockings. The light cast by the lamp behind her made her silhouette clearly visible though the thin material. He had an intense desire to rip the material from her and reveal the body beneath.

Taking her hand Peeta pulled her down into his lap. He reached to loosen her hair from its tie and untangled the braid, combing through the silky strands with his fingers. He admired the way her hair fell about her shoulders, the dark curtains framing her face, "You are so beautiful," he whispered. She raised her eyebrows incredulously at him and he could see that she did not believe him. It surprised him that she did not know how attractive she was. Burying his fingers in the softness of her hair until his hand reached the nape of her neck, he brought her mouth back to his.

They started sweet and slow, comfortable kisses compared to the forceful, heated ones of moments ago. But as the tempo changed again he rolled them over onto the bed so that her body was captured beneath him.

Sitting back on his heels, he slowly ran his fingers up the length of her stocking. His fingers brushed the exposed skin of her inner thigh, feeling the way it goose pimpled under his touch. He heard her breath catch in her throat as he rolled the woolen stocking down and again as he placed his lips to her soft smooth skin.

He kissed the skin of her inner thigh, the crook of her knee, the inside of her ankle as he removed each stocking. Then he retraced the trail of his lips until his mouth reached the junction between her legs. He pressed a kiss to her and felt the heat of her through the thin, white cotton of her underwear. She gasped and he would have feared he had done something wrong if it were not for the fact that she tilted towards him. His fingers gripped the bed as he imagined kissing her without the barrier of material between them.

He savoured every inch of her body as he moved back up the bed to take her in his arms. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt and he helped her to shrug it off and toss it to the floor. He sighed, melting into her warmth as her hands ran over chest. When she put her trembling fingers to his belt, fumbling with the buckle, he closed his hand around the tremor of hers.

"Katniss, we don't have to. Don't think that I expect you to… I'm happy that you're here with me. We can just kiss."

He saw the little crease between her brows form. She shook her head as though confused "You don't want me?" she said in a small voice.

"God no, I mean yes. I mean you have no idea how much I want you, how many times I've thought of this, the things I've dreamt of doing."

He felt the fire in his face, panicked by his unintentional confession. He noticed that her cheeks were a similar shade as she looked into his eyes and said, "Then show me."

His own hands started to shake as he finished removing his trousers. Nerves threatened to get the better of him as he tried not to dwell on his lack of experience. Unskilled as he may be, he was not entirely ignorant. He had heard enough stories from his brother to gain more than a basic understanding of what went on between a man and a woman. And here with Katniss it felt so right, so intrinsically natural. He let the noises which escaped her and the reactions of her body guide him - the almost silent exclaim as he kissed the crook of her neck, the way she arched into him in encouragement.

He ran his hands over the thin material of her chemise, watching her face with trepidation, waiting for her to halt him. But as his hands gathered the material, lifting it up, she arched her back and raised her arms to enable him to slip it over her head. He stared at her perfection with wide-eyed wonder. He tried not to give room to the thoughts that tried to invade, the ones that questioned whether this would be his only chance to truly know her. If tonight was to be all he had, then he wanted to memorize every inch of her forever. To let his lips and tongue map her body, his fingers chart every detail.

She tensed and stilled as his fingers ghosted over the curves of her breasts tracing the lines he had memorized since the day on the beach, but she did not ask him to stop or push him away. When he replaced his fingers with his tongue, he heard her sharp intake of breath and felt her fingers tighten on his shoulders. Her reaction sent a jolt to his groin and he acted on his urge to take her hardened nipple in his mouth and suck. He felt her fingernails dig into his flesh as she gasped, but her grasp held him in place so he repeated his attention with more urgency.

She was beautiful, radiant as he gazed on her and he saw no doubt in her eyes as she guided him back to her lips. Her kisses were hungry like his own and they fueled each other onward.

Katniss' hands were sure as he felt them travel down the length of his back, hesitating only when they reached the waistband of his shorts. They paused for a heartbeat before continuing over the material. He could feel the warmth of her palms through the cotton.

He trailed the smooth plane of her stomach, admiring the way his fingers, spread out over her hip, looked. He marveled at the contrast of his paleness against the delicious tan of her skin.

He, too, hesitated upon reaching the material of her underwear and he felt her body still and tense again, holding her breath, waiting to see what he would do. He continued his journey, pressing kisses to her through the thin white cotton until he reached the point where he had kissed her before.

Even if he had not heard boys brag about the reaction of girls to their mouths there, he knew he would want to try it. A base desire in him was screaming for his mouth to take her there, to claim the taste of her.

As he took hold of her waistband, he looked into her eyes in silent question and he saw her nervous ones gaze back at him. But by way of answer she lifted her hips from the bed to allow him to slip her underwear off. When he sat back to survey the full, glorious landscape of her body, he was unable to silence the low, deep moan at the back of his throat. She was perfect - too perfect for him - but he pushed aside his nerves. Quickly he pressed his lips to the inside of her knee before he allowed the self-doubt to take hold. His tongue travelled the smooth silk of her inner thighs, following her curves to the apex of her legs.

His fingers parted her slightly, and he let himself gaze on her once more before he placed an open, wet kiss to her, his tongue tasting her. She cried out his name and he looked up to her.

"I will stop if you want me to. Do you want me to stop?"

She closed her eyes for a second before she looked back into his. Worrying her lip between her teeth again, in her nervous habit, she shook her head.

He pressed his mouth to her again running his tongue over her until he found the hard pearl that lay there. She gasped loudly as her fingers tightened in his hair. He let his tongue move over her nub again and again until her fingers were pulling at his hair and her hips moved in a rhythm that matched his. The hardness that strained in his shorts was almost too much to ignore. He wanted to wrap his hand around himself and satisfy his throbbing need, but he could not, would not stop until she had reached her end.

His brother had recounted enough details of his past conquests, paying special attention to any part that he knew would make his little brother blush. Rowan took particular pride in his ability to make a girl scream in the final throes. So when her body started to tense and tremor Peeta was not surprised - he knew what to expect as she began to moan. But as Katniss cried out his name in surrender she did so with what sounded like shock and surprise, as if _she_ had not known what was happening. And as she lay on his bed, her body soft and spent, he finally let himself bring his own release as she watched him with glazed but curious eyes.

He lay down beside her and pulled the covers over them, folding her in his arms as she pressed her lips to his chest before closing her tired eyes. He watched her for a long time after she fell asleep, letting his fingers run through her long hair.

He wished he could freeze this moment with her, preserve the perfectness of it so that nothing could ever taint it or distract from the beauty of it. Because he worried that if he fell asleep now, that when he woke in the morning it would all be gone, that none of it will have been real. And he was not sure he would be able to cope if he found it had not been real. Now that his eyes had been opened, that he had seen what life could be like and reveled in the sight of her, he did not think that he could go back to living a life where he was blind.


	12. Chapter 12

Peeta woke early, the room still dark, the sun not yet fully risen. He could feel Katniss' warm body beside him and he could hear her gentle, rhythmic breathing. His, in contrast, seemed too loud, too erratic in the quiet of the darkened room. Worried that it would disturb her, he worked to calm and steady his breathing. He was not yet ready for her to wake. When she did, it would bring an end to this dream, and with it the discovery of how she felt about what they had done.

He feared that Katniss would regret last night, that she had merely got caught up in the atmosphere of midsummer madness, the result of too many mugs of ale.

If she took it all back in the morning as a mistake then he did not want to lose these last few hours.

He felt an overwhelming urge to whisper that he loved her, but he could not risk her hearing him. He was certain that she could not share the depth of feelings that he had for her.

Rolling to his side, he gently pressed his lips to the dip where her shoulder met her neck and breathed in her scent; she smelt of the sea and the air, and silently he whispered the words he was too afraid to say out loud against her skin.

She gave a contented murmur. Encouraged, he moved to spoon her a little closer and she pressed her back to his chest. He slipped his arm around her, with hope that the morning might not bear her regret after all.

* * *

Katniss woke with the early morning sun, shards of light cutting across the bed from the slits between the curtains. She lay facing Peeta, his arm tossed across her, safely tucking her beneath his shoulder.

She supposed she should be ashamed to wake and discover that her naked body was pressed against his, but instead it felt warm and comforting.

She watched his peaceful sleep, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as the breath escaped between his slightly parted lips. She felt her cheeks glow as she recalled his lips last night - the heat of their kisses, and the fire that he had stirred in her as he had placed those lips to her body. She felt the same flames licking between her legs now as the thought of last night rekindled the same sensations. She bit her lip and hoped he did not wake at that very moment to catch her watching him with such wanton intent.

Her body's reactions last night had caught her by surprise. Yet though she may have been nervous she had not felt scared at any point. Kissing Gale had been like being caught in the dark eye of the storm, an all-consuming passion that had threatened to swallow her up and had left her with an instant sense of regret. In contrast, Peeta's kisses had held all the same promise of hope that they did in her dreams. Being with him was like the welcome of warm arms after finding your way home when you had been lost, as if she had found where she belonged. She wished it could be like this always, this contentment she felt as she lay in his arms, that they could stay in this moment forever.

She knew that she should be repentant for her actions last night, what they had done, what she had allowed him to do. No, not allowed. There had been no surrender on her part. She had asked for it, had she not? Encouraged him in his actions. She had wanted it just as much as he had. She was not sorry for what they had done and she would do it all again. Whatever anyone else might say, last night had felt too right, too natural for it to have been sinful.

She wanted to brush his hair away from his face but she was afraid to wake him. How would he act when he woke? Would he be sorry for what they had done? She did not think so. But that did not mean that what had passed between them shared the same magnitude for him as it had for her. They had not spoken of their feelings for each other, and perhaps last night she had not been truly aware of the depth of her emotions.

She did not want him to judge her inexperience against the other girls he had been with before. She did not like the thought that he had brought other girls to his room, but surely there would have been others. She remembered Joanna had commented that both she and Annie found Peeta attractive. She did not want to think of him with other girls, whether they were merchants' daughters or girls from the fishworks, or how she compared to them. How her small breasts, her ribs that stuck out just a little too much, fared against their soft, full bodies. Had he kissed other girls as he had her? With a possessive jealousy she realised that she did not want him to have; she wanted for that to have been something he only shared with her.

Could last night have been just a casual coupling to him? She was aware now that it had meant much more than that for her, although she dared not admit her feelings, or even say the words to herself.

Because, whilst she had not been frightened last night, these feelings did scare her. She had seen first-hand the devastation wreaked by these emotions. She had watched as her mother fell apart after the death of her husband, slowly disappearing until all that was left was a vacant shell of the woman she had been. Katniss would not let herself be made weak and then broken by a man.

She would not let herself fall in love.

Yet, despite her convictions, she hated to consider how she would be affected when he woke, if he did not feel the same feel way she did.

She tried to push these thoughts aside; she did not want to waste what could be the last moments before he woke worrying about what the morning may bring.

She regarded him in his slumber, letting herself memorize every last detail. He looked glorious, his sleep-ruffled hair shone golden, the lengths of his blond lashes highlighted where the morning sun fell on them.

She pressed a kiss to his skin. He mumbled something in his sleep and shifted his weight to the side, taking her with him as his strong arm wrapped protectively around her. Carefully, she laid her head on his chest, taking care not to wake him. She liked the way he smelt, like bread and flour with a hint of something she couldn't place, something warm, a spice perhaps. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she snuggled against him and fell back to sleep.

* * *

When Peeta awoke again he was greeted with a beautiful pair of grey eyes watching him. As Katniss quickly dropped her gaze for a second his worries from last night came back to him, before he realised that she lay in his arms, her naked body against his.

"Good morning," he said shyly.

She looked up at him through her lashes.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

She gave more consideration to the straightforward question than he had expected. There was flash of surprise on her face as if suddenly she realised her answer. "Yes. I had the best night's sleep in a long time." Responding to his puzzled expression she added, "I have a lot of vivid dreams which can be…" she struggled to find the right word, "disturbing."

"So no dreams last night?" She shook her head with a pleased smile.

"Me neither." He realised she was waiting for him to elaborate. "I have night-terrors," he admitted, and then instantly kicked himself for saying too much. Why had he told her that? No one outside his family knew. But she did not look alarmed by his revelation so he continued to explain. "They're the reason I sleep here rather than with my family above the bakery. After the accident, I came to with my father and brother holding me down as the Doctor tried to realign the bone to set it. Some nights I relive it in my dreams, I can feel the pain and I'm screaming out for them to stop. Only when I wake do I realise that the pain is not real. My mother thought it best for everyone if I slept here instead. It was only fair - I was causing my family to lose a lot of sleep."

Peeta recalled that it had not taken his mother long to lose patience with his nightmares. It had been more than purely a lack of tolerance over the disturbance to her sleep. He knew he embarrassed her, that she worried someone would hear his screams from the street. But more than that his screams had scared her. So she had insisted he move out, relegated to live above the barn, no longer deemed suitable to share the house with his family.

"It must be nice, though, to have your own privacy." She bit her lip nervously and dropped her eyes as she added, "You know, for when you have visitors."

He was stunned. Did she honestly think that he had brought girls to his room before? Could she be under the impression that he had been with others as they had been last night? He wondered if she saw him in a way that he did not see himself. But he did not understand how she could think that about him; he knew what he was and what he was not. His mother did not let him forget his failings, as if he needed her help to remember what they were. He worried how long it would be before Katniss saw the truth, too.

"No one has ever been up here before, except for my family of course."

"Really?" He wasn't sure whether she looked surprised or relieved.

"Really. It's only been you." He hoped she understood that he meant more than just being in his room.

He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and as he did so she leant into his touch. He cradled her soft cheek in his hand and gazed at her in bewilderment. How could this be real? That Katniss was here in his bed, that she had chosen to be here with him. She slipped her arms around his neck, as he bent his head to kiss her.

She moved closer and he was intensely aware that her bare chest was pressed to his. He felt himself twitch, awakening with the same desire as last night. He knew she must feel him hard against her inner thigh.

It wasn't that he didn't want her, God did he want her! But he didn't want to rush this with her, and the longer they spent in bed the greater the risk that they would get caught by one of his family. Peeta knew that if he were wise he would ensure that they were both out of there before anyone came looking for him. He shifted his weight to put some space between them whilst making sure not to lose complete contact with her.

"Do you have plans for today?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No, how about you, do you have to work?"

"No, not even mother would make us work today. Most of the town won't surface until after noon, so there's no point in opening the bakery." Although he would not put it past his mother to have him scrub the kitchen instead.

Katniss laughed "I bet there are some sore heads this morning. Jo and her friends were pretty worse for wear when we left them last night."

He didn't know why he was so nervous (after all, they laid naked in each other's arms) but he still felt a flutter of anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he asked, "Would you like to come to the beach with me? We could take a picnic."

His fears were unfounded as she smiled, "I would love that."

He relaxed and grinned back

"I'll go and quickly grab some food from the bakery." He didn't want to move and leave the warm comfort of her arms but the sooner he did so the better the chance of avoiding running into anyone. The last thing he wanted was to be caught by his mother.

As he forced himself out of bed he saw her avert her eyes, and he smiled at her modesty even after last night_**. **_ He retrieved his clothes from where they had been dropped and scattered.

"I won't be long. There's a bathroom in there." He pointed to a door. "My father's condition on me moving out here was that I should have running water. I figure it probably makes this the fanciest barn in the district," he added with a grin.

* * *

Katniss stayed in bed, her knees hugged to her under the sheets until she heard the door close downstairs. She grinned to herself, both excited and relieved at the prospect of spending the day with Peeta. She jumped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom. The small room contained just a toilet and a sink, but she was relieved she would not have to use an outhouse. She was also glad to think that young Peeta, having been banished from his family home, had been given this small luxury at least. To learn that Mrs. Mellark had turned her back on Peeta when he had needed a mother's love and comfort the most only intensified the feeling of hatred she already harbored toward the callous woman.

Katniss dressed quickly, wanting to be fully clothed before Peeta returned. She looked at herself in the small, tarnished mirror that hung above Peeta's dresser. Did she look any different than she had yesterday? Would people be able to tell what she had done just by looking at her face? Had she been clearly tarred with the brush of a harlot, a wanton woman to be despised and pitied as her father had always warned?

She studied herself in the mirror as she combed through her hair, then braided and tied it back. No, people would not be able to tell. There was a small part of her that was disappointed, that wanted everyone to know, because she liked what she saw in the mirror. She saw the face of a girl who was happy. The face of girl who had not been too afraid to act. Pearls weren't found lying on the shore, you had to dive for them and that was exactly what she had done. She had no regret that she had dared to jump in.

But there was a consequence to last night, because whether she liked it or not, whether she chose to ignore the fact or act to the contrary, the face that stared back at her from the mirror was also undeniably the face of a girl in love.

* * *

**Notes**

_"Pearls don't lie on the seashore. If you want one, you must dive for it." - Chinese proverb_

Thank you to all the lovely people who left a review for the last chapter. It's always brilliant to hear from you and know that someone is out there reading this.

I promise that the next chapter will be a bit longer and have a bit more action, but not sure when it will happen as between now and Christmas seems to be an endless round of nativity plays and cake making!

Thanks as always to my insightful beta Katnissinme.


	13. Chapter 13

From the water Katniss watched Peeta as he painted on the beach. He stood at his easel with his paints laid out on the rock beside him, his shirt unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up in the mid-day sun. She bit her lip as she admired the strong muscles that were exposed. As her body remembered how it felt for his to be pressed against it, her face reddened and she dipped low in the water to cool her heated cheeks.

It had been three weeks since midsummer and the night of the bonfire. Three weeks since the night she had first kissed him.

Three weeks of furtive glances, secret kisses and stolen moments. And best of all, three Sundays hidden away at the beach, their beach, together.

Katniss had learnt a lot about Peeta in that short time. He made her laugh like no one else could, not even Prim, being both intentionally and unintentionally funny. The faces he made whenever she tried to make him swim with her were pure comedy. Naturally good-humoured, he had no problem playing the clown; but she did not like it when he made himself the brunt of the joke with self-deprecating comments**. **Katniss understood that it was likely a learned behaviour of self-defense to his mother's barbed comments but still she wished he would not do it. There was no need for it when he was with her.

What was worse was when she heard Mrs Mellark's words come from his own mouth. Katniss had told Peeta she believed he could make a living from his talented painting, but he had dismissed her praise saying that painting was not a proper job, "it was just for daydreamers and daydreams didn't put food on the table."

Peeta had also told her how his father had described the shops he had seen in the capital that sold nothing but sweet treats and little pastries with not a loaf of bread in sight, and how he would love to visit them one day. She had asked him why he had never left, gone to the capital and found work in one of these places he dreamt of. She had no doubt that someone with his ability would be easily employed. But he had frowned, saying it was just a pipe dream, never a real possibility. There were plenty who arrived in the capital everyday in search of work and he was convinced that an employer would never pick him above other men. "Why?" She had asked, "I doubt a tenth of them could do what you can." He had just looked down at himself as if that answered everything.

It seemed such a terrible contradiction from the strong man that she knew Peeta was. After all, had he not stuck true to his beliefs of the existence of selkies all these years? Even in the face of ridicule when everyone else doubted him he had stood strong and not backed down. She only wished he would see himself as she did, rather than let his mother's remarks poison his self-esteem.

How Katniss would like to give Mrs. Mellark a taste of her own medicine and let her know exactly what she thought of her and the way she treated her son.

She saw Peeta look up from his canvas and smile at her before returning to his painting, and she wondered if she was again featured in his work. She had noticed that his sketches these days were less of the beach and increasingly of her.

She had found images of herself asleep and she knew he drew her early in the morning before she woke. She should be embarrassed by some of the pictures of her lying naked, her modesty barely covered by the sheets. But the girl in the pictures was rendered with such attention and love, creating images of such beauty, that it was hard to believe that they were actually of her.

He told her she was beautiful, but she knew she was nothing special, especially not compared with him.

She could watch him draw for hours; the blond hair that fell around his face when he bent over his sketchbook, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration as his skilled hands moved across the paper. His beautiful glorious smile could warm her better than the rays of the sun and made her feel that, perhaps, she could be something special. He could make her stomach flutter with just a look, a glint in his blue eyes that seemed to tell that he thought of her the way she did him.

She loved the way it felt to be wrapped up in those arms, to have his hands upon her skin. The way he made her feel, the things he did when they were alone in his room or here at the beach were things she knew she should feel ashamed of, but she was not. His kisses were as irresistible as the sweet treats he made for her. She could not get enough of them and she liked to think that the feeling was mutual.

They took every opportunity they had to further their knowledge of each other's bodies, so that within the past three weeks she felt she knew his body almost as well as her own. The light sprinkling of freckles across his shoulders that she loved to kiss, the downy hair at the nape of his neck that she liked to curl her fingers in. The spots that made him writhe with ticklishness, gasping for mercy before he caught her wrists and pinned her beneath him ending her torture. The parts of his body that under her touch had him begging for more before he found his release in her hands.

His brother had caught them, thankfully fully clothed, but still they had lain on Peeta's bed in a heated embrace. Rowan had laughed at his discovery, but not in a malicious manner, he had seemed truly happy and Peeta had not been afraid he would tell their mother. Yet it seemed unlikely that Mrs. Mellark did not already know. People had seen them that night at the bonfire holding hands, so surely she must have learnt of them by now. Peeta had not spoken of it though. Katniss supposed it was possible that his mother thought it was good for him to sow his wild oats with one of the easy girls from the fishworks before his impending wedding. They did not talk about that either. The proposed marriage, his mother and Gale were topics that neither of them mentioned.

It was less than a week to the full moon when she had agreed to meet with Gale again. But she had not mentioned it to Peeta and she had not made up her mind what she should do. The thought of the rendezvous scared her, Gale scared her. In truth she was also scared of how she would act. She feared she would feel the same desire for him again and that frightened her more than anything else.

Katniss knew she had been more and more on edge with each passing day, wondering whether Gale would have news of her father, but also worried about what he would demand for keeping his side of the bargain and making the enquiries. She knew Peeta had noticed - he had asked a number of times what the matter was, but she had deflected his questions. It was fairly easy to distract Peeta once you knew how.

She looked back to where he stood now on the beach. "Peeta," she called, getting his attention, "come in the water with me." His face broke into a smile but he shook his head.

The first week she had swam in her underwear to keep her decent, although she would have preferred to feel the water on her naked skin. When she had asked Peeta what the matter was, as he gaped at her with his eyes wide, she had been horrified when he had pointed out that her white cotton underwear was made almost entirely see-through once wet. Peeta had offered to turn around whilst she wrapped a towel around herself, although he did point out that he had seen her in the nude before. In bed the night before, and with a teasing grin as he looked back over his shoulder here on the beach once before. He had not taken the girl who swam naked to be such a prude. She had pouted, not wanting to be reminded of that day and had sulked wrapped up in the towel.

But he had apologised for teasing her and she had forgiven him; it was amazing what he could get her to do with that smile and those eyes. She had realised he was right, and since then she had swam the way she wanted to, as nature intended, enjoying the feeling of the water on her bare skin.

They had an unspoken agreement that Peeta would look away whilst she got out of the water until she had the towel wrapped around her, though she suspected that he still snuck glances.

It was ridiculous, really, to feel embarrassed, but there was a difference between lying naked in his arms in a darkened room and exposing herself on the beach in broad daylight. Peeta did not turn his head but continued to pretend to be engrossed in his work. However, she knew full well it was a lie. As she drew closer, the evidence of her effect on him was clear through the material of his trousers and she could not help but smirk.

Coming to stand close to him, almost touching, she looked over his shoulder at his work. It was an incredibly life-like depiction of the scene before them. The wisps of cloud, the blue sky, the white peaks as the sea hit the ring of rocks which guarded their cove. He had painted her as she stood on a rock poised to dive. She would have blushed at the detail he had added to her naked form had she not been pre-occupied by the shadow in the water. There, feet from where he had shown she would hit the water, Peeta had painted a dark shadow just below the surface. As if something waited for her there in the depths. She wondered if the dark image had truly been there, or if it was just an addition by Peeta. It could have been as harmless as the shadow of a cloud as it moved cross the sun. But it gave her an uneasy feeling as she thought of her approaching appointment with Gale. As if the shadow and the thought of him threatened to invade the idyll of their beach haven. Was it possible that Gale had been there, watching them? The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

**...~...**

Peeta watched, bewitched, as she walked from the water. She moved quickly to grab her towel from the rock where it lay, but not quick enough; he was still rewarded with the sight of her naked body glistening with seawater before she wrapped the towel tightly around her. Katniss was still uncomfortable with nudity despite the times they had seen each other undressed. He turned back to his painting, pretending he had not been watching, a pretense he knew she did not believe for a second yet still appreciated.

She knew what effect she had on him, that he would be sure to abandon his painting now, unable to focus on anything else but her having seen her emerge naked from the sea.

It seemed that thoughts of her affected almost everything he did. Things he heard or saw during the day that he cast to memory so that he could share them with her later, hiding aside a little of the things he baked because he wondered whether she had ever tasted them before.

He had bourn the wrath of his mother on several occasions when she had caught him daydreaming at work, memories filling his mind of the times they managed to steal together. They both worked long days, but they tried to meet each day. Sometimes it was just a hurried kiss pressed against the wall behind the bakery, or perhaps a walk through town keeping a respectable distance between them, not even holding hands, just talking. Her roommates may have guessed at the nature of their relationship, but they were still careful to hide it from everyone else. He did not want to damage Katniss' reputation and for her to fall victim to cruel gossip.

Sometimes they were able to escape to his room above the barn. Peeta had never thought he would be so grateful that his mother had ostracised him from the family home. On Saturday nights, when neither of them had work the next day, they dared to stay together, Katniss sharing his bed. Now every other night of the week his bed felt too empty.

After spending Saturday night together they would make their separate ways to church. Katniss would do her best to avoid meeting his eyes whilst there. She did not mention it but he guessed she felt the full weight of their sins when they were in church. He knew her upbringing had been more devoutly Christian than his. Church for his mother was more about being seen than atonement for any trespasses committed during the week. The position of one's seat in church had a direct correlation to a family's place in the town's hierarchy. Generous contributions to the church's funds had ensured the Mellark's had a space on the front pew alongside other prominent merchant and professional families. Katniss stood at the back with the other girls from the fishworks.

Sunday after church was his favourite time of the week, for whilst he would give anything to share his bed with her every night, the place he loved her most was at the beach, as that was where she truly came alive.

She relaxed noticeably, her spirit lightening during their time there. She was more playful and teasing and her laughter flowed freely. It was such a wondrous thing to witness Katniss so happy that he did not care that sometimes he made her laugh quite unintentionally. When she laughed it was never hurtful, as was so often the case at home; it always seemed that she laughed with him and not at him.

She also sung to herself more often at the beach - usually just a quiet little murmur, humming to herself, but on occasion she would forget to be cautious and sing out loud. Her voice remained the most heavenly sound he had ever heard and he was deaf to all other sounds when she sung.

Katniss blinded him, too. He did not even see other girls. Women he served in the bakery that he had previously admired held no interest for him. He was completely blind to their charms now, for they could not compare to her.

He loved to watch with fascination as she swam. He wished he was even half as adept so that he could join her as she all but flew through the water, graceful and effortless, leaving hardly a ripple in her wake. A stark contrast to him as he thrashed and splashed as Katniss tried to encourage him to swim. He had not been much of a swimmer before the accident and now he was even less capable. Katniss was all encouraging words and kind smiles when he joined her in the sea, telling him she was just happy to have him with her. But he still felt a fool and was quick to turn his ineptness into a joke before she could comment on his incompetence.

He admired her now as she padded softly across the sand to him, looking over his shoulder at his painting. She was so close he could smell the sea on her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shiver. It never ceased to amaze him how long she could spend in the water; the sea, even in the height of summer on a near cloudless day like this, would still be cold. Yet she did not seem to be affected, it was only when she was back on dry land that she would complain.

Removing his shirt he turned to her and held it out for her to put on. She slipped her arms through the sleeves, her towel falling to the ground as she did so. He took hold of the collar, adjusting it to sit correctly on her shoulders. But rather than button it up, he pushed the open front aside to expose her beneath. He brushed his thumb over her already hardened nipple then dipped his head and ran his tongue over the peak before teasing it lightly between his teeth.

"Peeta," she gasped, pushing him away.

"What?" he asked with feigned innocence.

"Someone could see," she scolded, looking behind as if expecting to see an intruder there.

"Who?" he asked, scanning the deserted beach. "Anyway, if there is someone here, they've already feasted on the sight of you swimming naked in the sea."

It was the wrong thing to say - he knew how much she worried about that anyway. She turned away with a scowl, starting to do up the buttons.

"Katniss, I'm sorry. You know no one else comes here but us." But she did not look up, continuing to button his shirt. "Katniss, please." He covered her hands, halting her progress and then with a playful grin he added. "I'll only have to undo them again."

She looked at him again with that scowl on her face ready to argue, but as he continued to smile at her he saw her anger falter before she laughed, slapping his arm as she did so to show he was not entirely forgiven. He pulled her to him, kissing her before he started to unbutton the shirt again. "Come on," he said taking her hand. "Let's go where no one else will see us." Grabbing the blanket from the sand as they passed he led her to the cave in the far corner of the beach.

The cave was hidden by an outcrop of rock so that when you first entered the beach through the tunnel you would not know it existed, it only became visible when you were almost at its entrance. The water only came up to it when the tide was at full height and the sun streaked in from mid-morning so that the sand, near the front at least, was often dry.

He spread the blanket on the sandy floor of the cave where it was bathed in sunlight, but he did not recline there. Instead, he pressed her back against the wall of the cave.

Her skin still felt cool beneath the warmth of his lips as his mouth worked its way from her neck over her body until it reached its goal. Kneeling between her legs he placed one of her thighs upon his shoulder. He could care less that his body would suffer for this position tomorrow when he was standing in the bakery, because right now it gave him exactly what he wanted.

His tongue ran between her legs, the growing warmth of her already beginning to outweigh the chill of the sea. He could still taste the salt water on her.

He listened with satisfaction to the noises which escaped her. The quiet girl who tired to silence her cries in his room was gone. A different girl existed here in the cave at the beach. A girl who had no problem voicing her needs, making it clear what she desired from him, who cried his name out loud. Here any hesitation was washed away with the sea leaving her uninhibited and her passions free_**. **_

Her hands fisted in his hair as she tried to form the words to demand what she needed, "Peeta, I need…I want." But her words subsided into a throaty moan as he took the hard bud and sucked, gently at first and then with more intensity. Her body arched, pushing against him. He knew what it was that she wanted as he slid first one, then two fingers inside her. He pulled back slightly to take in the sight of his fingers as they moved within her, glistening with the slick evidence of her desire. He imagined it was him, not his fingers, within her and he groaned.

He had enjoyed their slow pace over the last few weeks, taking their time discovering how to pleasure each other, not rushing to that final step in being together. But now, as he watched her body respond to his touch, he found himself hoping that it wouldn't be too much longer before he could fully experience being with her.

Katniss moaned again with need, tugging at his hair, directing him back to her. A smile played at his lips as he resisted for a moment, not complying with her silent demand. Not until he heard her needy plea did he return the attention of his tongue to her, and it was not long until her legs turned soft, her body trembling as she climaxed beneath his mouth.

He pulled her down to the blanket with him and wrapped her in his arms. His heart skipped a beat as she gazed up at him with a look of pure adoration. She kissed him, taking her taste back from his mouth and swallowing his groan as he felt her hand wrap around him.

He had been surprised the first Sunday they had taken a picnic to the beach and he had shown her the cave, when Katniss had asked him to show her how to touch him. Even more to his delight, since then she had been keen to hone her skills at satisfying him.

Katniss rolled on to her side facing him, one hand around his shaft, the other caressing him beneath. He admired the way the positioning of her arms like this pushed her breasts together, enhancing her cleavage and he took her breasts in his hands. He felt her respond to his touch as her hand tightened slightly, the rhythm of her strokes becoming a little faster. His breaths were more audible until she brought her mouth to his again. Her tongue was assertive and commanding; she made the kiss deeper, the way she knew he liked to be kissed when he came.

After, as they lay satisfied and complete in each other's arms, he had to fight to keep the words contained. He wanted to shout them and listen to their echo bounce from the cave walls. _I love you, I love you_.

But he was not free to tell her that he loved her, not whilst his mother's plans of marriage to Magdalena still hung over his head. But he could not continue to live like this. He knew what it was that he wanted, there was only one person he dreamt of spending his life with. He would speak to his father and brother; if he could but get them to understand just how deep his feelings were, then surely they would give their support and he could call off the wedding once and for all. Life would be tough for them he knew, but if his family let him continue to live above the barn after he and Katniss were married then they would survive. His mind was set. He would talk to his father and brother next week, and then he could tell Katniss that he loved her.

* * *

**Notes**

Yay! Finally got this chapter finished after what feels like months. Just needed to take a break from it for a while over Christmas but I'm back on track now and most of the rest of the story is drafted up so hopefully the end is in sight and then I can go back to enjoying reading other people's fanfiction instead!

It would be lovely if you left a review (as I only need 3 more to make it to 100) and if you've got time to read something else, I've posted a little trio of shorts called Peeta and the wolf which are a bit red riding hood-ish.

Thanks as always to Katnissinme for betaing 'cause she's ace and I'd probably never get anything finished without her.


	14. Chapter 14

Katniss moved through the darkened streets hugging the shadows. She went unnoticed except for outside the tavern where a lone drunk swaying in the gutter had called out, "Come 'ave a drink with me sweetheart." She had turned her face to the wall and hurried on, leaving the slurred curses and the sound of breaking glass behind her.

She shivered as she stood on the edge of the deserted dock looking out over the black water. A storm was threatening to blow in and the brisk wind chased the clouds in front of the moon. She thought of Peeta still asleep in his warm bed, and not for the first time since leaving his room she considered running back to the comfort of his waiting arms. But she had come this far, and there was no sense in turning back now.

Behind the clouds a full moon hung in the sky, signaling a full month since she had first summoned Gale. There had been times when she had doubted whether she would dare to see him again, but Gale was her only contact with the selkie world. If she did not call him now, when they had agreed, there was no guarantee that he would come again if she changed her mind. There was also the hope that his visit would bring news of her true father.

Crouching at the end of the dock she leaned forward over the water. As the moon became unveiled her reflection appeared on the surface and she regarded it critically. The last few weeks with Peeta had been some of the happiest in her life, yet here she was having left him asleep so she could meet with Gale behind his back. She had not spoken to him of her plans for tonight, and her being here felt nothing less than deceitful. She could not deny that her feelings for Peeta had become stronger, yet she still dared not voice them, and neither had he said that he loved her. He was, as far as she knew, still engaged to be wed to another. What she felt, what they had together, could all be just fleeting pleasure before he began his life with his real betrothed. She allowed herself to think the words that scared her, that she was in love with Peeta, and she shed tears for the life she wanted but that seemed just out of reach to her. When she was sure that seven had fallen into the sea she wiped her tears, calming herself as she called out Gale's name.

She stood and watched and waited. He was close before she saw him swimming in his human form and she wondered where he had hidden his pelt. Gale hoisted himself up the iron ladder that was fixed to the dock wall. He shook his head, and with it the water from his dark hair, as he stood dripping before her.

"I was not sure you would call for me," he said.

"Neither was I," she admitted. "Here, will you put these on?" She handed him a pair of undershorts and he held them out at arm's length between his thumb and forefinger inspecting them. On impulse as she was leaving Katniss had taken a pair of Peeta's underwear from his dresser, pleased with herself that she had a solution to Gale's nudity.

"You wish me to wear these?" Gale asked with a questioning quirk of his eyebrows.

"Yes," she confirmed with a firm nod.

Finally he shrugged, "Alright," and with a smirk added, "Though I'm not sure why you would want to deny yourself such a pleasant distraction."

She gave a huff at his conceit, although he was right, of course - she did find his body incredibly distracting. She looked out over the water as he put them on and when she looked back to him she made sure to keep her eyes on his face, even if he was now covered.

"Were you able to learn anything of my father?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head, "There were none who admitted to taking a human lover from your island, what 17, 18 years ago?" he said, trying to gauge her age.

"So there's no hope of finding my father." She was unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. She had not realised until that moment quite how much she had hoped he would bring good news.

"There are others we could ask. Colonies that live further north where the seas turn to ice. We could ask again there."

"We?"

"You would come with me and ask for yourself."

"But the ice!" She was shocked by his suggestion. "I would not be able to survive the cold."

"If that is the case then perhaps you are not the selkie child that you claim. Tell me, when you swim do you feel the cold?"

"No, but as soon as I step back on land I feel it."

"Then we would not leave the water," he said, as if it were obvious.

"I can't live like that!" she exclaimed. "Or did you forget that I'm human, too?"

"You let that side dominate you because you doubt who you truly are. But I'll warrant that you feel more at home in the ocean than anywhere else."

It was true that she did feel alive in the water, but she still did not believe that she could survive for days on end in the water, especially amongst the ice flows.

"Come swim with me," he said firmly, holding out his hand to her.

"What, now?" she questioned, her eyes first widening in astonishment and before furrowing in suspicion as to his motives.

"Yes, unless you can see a better time. The sea is empty of men and boats, we have it to ourselves."

"But, I can't." Katniss shook her head, and unconsciously took a step back. Surely Peeta would notice if she returned wet, and besides, she was wary of Gale's intentions.

"You asked me to find news of your father for you for a price to be agreed later, and this is what I ask in return, that you come swim with me now." His tone indicated that the matter was not up for discussion.

She knew she had made a bargain, and though Gale had not managed to find the information she desired, his success had not been part of the deal. He stood firm on the dock, waiting for her, and she did not see that she had a choice. She did not want to provoke his temper by turning down his request, especially if there was still some chance he would be able to find her father. But still, it worried her why he wanted to take her swimming, and she was not entirely sure that she could trust him.

"You promise you'll bring me back to land as soon as I ask it?" she asked apprehensively.

"You have my word," he nodded.

She studied him as he spoke, deliberating whether he would make good on his promise. There was no indication that he was lying and so she decided that she had no choice but to trust him.

Walking to a dark corner of the dock she removed first her boots and then her dress and woolen stockings, tucking them all into the shadows. She did not want to return to find them missing. She shivered again in her underwear, wrapping her arms around her as she walked back to where Gale stood on the edge of the dock.

With a signal for her to follow Gale dove into the sea, hardly a ripple breaking the surface where he entered. He reappeared moments later at the foot of the ladder waiting for her. Her senses seemed magnified as she descended. She could feel her heart drumming in her chest, the water as it slapped against the wall of the dock was deafening, and she could taste the strong smell of the rusted iron ladder in her mouth as she lowered herself into the water. She let her head sink beneath the waves and there she discovered all was calm.

As her head broke the surface she saw Gale by her side.

"Don't let the land dominate you," he instructed. "Your body wants the water. Forget your human side and marvel at what your body already knows it can do."

He took hold of her hand and towed her with him. She panicked at first at the speed at which they cut through the water. He pulled her faster than she would have thought possible. It took her a moment to realise that her body did not struggle - she was not being dragged, rather she easily kept pace with him.

Mindful of Gale's advice Katniss tried not to let herself overthink what she was doing. Instead she concentrated only on how it felt, the cold black water fresh on her skin, the effortless joy of her movements. When they came to a halt, Gale let go of her hand and dove into the depths. They had travelled far out to sea, the shore now a distant glow of lights, and she felt a panicked déjà vu as she looked around for him. It was eerily reminiscent of being lost at sea in her dreams, and she feared Gale had abandoned her. She felt a surge of relief when he resurfaced moments later with a large shell in his hand.

"That's beautiful," she said as he handed it to her.

"There are plenty more, why don't you take one for yourself?"

She stared at him in confusion; she could not dive to the seabed at these depths.

Understanding her reservation he said, "It is only your own doubts that hold your back."

"Alright, I'll try," she said with attempted conviction, "but please, will you guide me?"

She closed her eyes as he led her to the bottom. There she could feel the sand and rocks beneath her hands before she instinctively opened her eyes. She experienced no sting from the salt water and somehow, even though dark, she could still make out Gale, his eyes watching her exploration. Looking to the seabed she could see shadows on the sand. She reached out for a suitable shape and upon bringing it closer she could see it shared the same ringed pattern as Gale's shell. Katniss grinned to herself as she kicked from the rocks and rose at speed to the surface. She took a luxuriously deep lungful of air then laughed, triumphant at her achievement.

"Tell me, selkie child, how did you feel?"

"That…that was incredible!" she gasped in amazement.

"Try again and tell me, what else can you feel?"

Under his expectant gaze she ducked back beneath the waves. Katniss floated at first, thinking only of how she could see nothing, but then it dawned on her she had no need to see. She felt a prickle on her skin and a tingle that seemed to reach from her scalp to the very tips of her hair. Intuitively she sensed that something had passed by here not long ago, not very big, a small shoal of fish perhaps. No sooner had she thought that than she became aware of something much larger behind her, something dangerous, a predator, and automatically she fled. She knew it followed her, but when she glanced behind it would dart away, always out of her line of vision, but constantly just behind her. Until it wasn't - it was before her and it grabbed her, pulling her to the surface.

Gale laughed at his game as she swatted at him, but she was too exhilarated to be truly angry with him.

"Tell me, why would you ever want to go back to the land?" he asked, his eyes suddenly serious. Katniss was then acutely aware that she was still in his hold, and his hands that held firm about her waist pulled her closer to him. As Gale kissed her once again she felt the same fire as last time take hold of her body. Their kisses grew deeper as she clung to him. His hands lifted her and she wound her legs around his waist. _Yes,_ she thought as she felt her desire build. _Yes, I want you Peeta_.

Her eyes flew open. This was not Peeta. She pushed hard against Gale's chest, unwinding her legs from him. "Take me back now," she ordered.

She watched nervously as Gale's face grew dark and his jaw set hard. Taking her hand he yanked her abruptly after him and this time she found it hard to keep up as they sped though the water. When she saw the outline of the dock she pulled her hand from his grasp and swam to the steps on her own. She did not expect him to follow her onto land but he did. She was shocked when she turned to find him naked again.

"What happened to your shorts?" she cried.

"You didn't really expect me to swim in those things?" he asked with disdain.

"You mean you weren't wearing them when we…"

"When we kissed? Of course not." He looked insulted by the idea.

She stared at him in wide-eyed horror but he seemed oblivious to her distress and instead looked her over. She was aware that the wet material of her underwear clung to her body but she had presumed that the darkness of night would hide the evidence that it had become see-through. The glint in his eyes told her that her presumption had been wrong.

He took a step toward her and she stepped back until she hit the stone wall behind.

"Don't kiss me." She warned, her hand outstretched as if in an attempt to fend him off.

"Why not? You did not seem adverse to my attentions in the water," he said with an amused smile.

Her palms were flat against his chest as he brought his mouth to hers, but she instantly forgot the need to push him away. Instead she let his naked weight push her back against the wall and she returned his kisses with equal intensity, until again she regained her senses and shoved him away with all her might.

"I asked you _not_ to kiss me," she cried as she slapped him across the face.

She saw a flash of pure fury in his eyes before he laughed, "Next time I must remember you are more receptive in the water."

"There won't be a next time," she spat back at him, her body still shaking.

"We'll see," he retorted as he turned, and with one final look back over his shoulder at her, he smiled and dove silently into the water.

**...~...**

Peeta had woken to the sound of movement in the bedroom. He presumed Katniss was making her way to the bathroom, so was surprised when he heard her open the dresser drawer. He was about to ask what she was doing when she slipped out of the room. He listened as she tried to close the door silently, then to her feet upon the stairs and the click of the door downstairs as it closed.

He sat up, unsure what was happening. Katniss had gone. She had never left in the night before. It had become normal for them to spend Saturday night together, neither of them needing to wake early for work the next day. He lay alone not knowing what to make of it. Whatever the reason for her leaving it gave him an uneasy feeling.

He dressed quickly. Not having to think twice about where she would go in the night, he hurried through the empty streets towards the water.

The dock was empty and he was about to leave when he spied the pile of clothing in the corner. Had Katniss woken to go swimming? Something did not seem right; he decided he would wait for her and find out what was wrong. He was thankful when he finally saw the movement in the water making its way back to land, but his relief was short-lived when he saw that there were two figures, not one, in the water.

He moved carefully to hide behind the wall and watched as she emerged onto the dock. Katniss looked wonderful, her face clearly animated and alive. He did not have time to call out to her before the second figure climbed the steps. A naked man, tall, broad and dark-haired. A selkie male. Peeta felt sick to his stomach. All stories he had heard of the selkie men told of their ability to charm, their sexual prowess and the inevitable outcome of women's encounters with them. But surely it was not so with Katniss?

He tried to swallow down the bile that rose in his throat as he watched them. He heard her shock at the man's state of undress but this did not reassure him for long as he heard the male clearly say "when we kissed." He heard Katniss' protests for the selkie not to kiss her and when he did not heed her warning Peeta was ready to jump the wall and rush the male. But as Peeta stood he saw how Katniss' mouth moved with the selkie's forceful kisses as the man's hands held her firm to him and she made no attempt to stop him.

When he could watch no more, Peeta hurried as fast as his body would allow back to the bakery and his room. He undressed and returned to his bed as he had been when she left. He pretended to be asleep when she joined him not long after. He could smell her damp hair and the chill of her skin and he felt the coldness seep into him as he listened to her fall asleep. He lay awake, trying to turn what he had seen around in his head, to see if there was anyway he could have been mistaken about what he had witnessed. But it always came back to the same thing. Katniss had left him, stolen away to meet another man, and he had seen them kissing in such a way as to leave no doubt in his mind that she and the selkie were lovers.

**...~...**

For the first time in years his dream was different. The pain was still as real as ever, an agonising, searing heat that had him begging for it to stop. But when his eyes focused on the perpetrator, instead of the familiar face of the Doctor, he was staring into the dark eyes of the man from the dock. The selkie stood with one foot upon Peeta's chest whilst he brought the other down with full force on his leg. Peeta screamed out in agony as he heard the snap of bone. Again and again he stamped down on the break as Peeta cried out in pain.

The Selkie just laughed, "Now there is no fear of you trying to stop us, boy." Only then did Peeta notice the selkie had hold of Katniss' hand and dragged her to the water. Peeta called out to her but the selkie pulled her into his arms and Peeta watched as she returned his kisses just as she had at the dock. Just as they plunged into the water she screamed out for Peeta. He tried to move but the movement brought a fresh jolt of pain that made him cry out. Katniss reached out her arms to Peeta but there was no hope of saving her. Her eyes were full of sorrow yet she no longer struggled; instead, she seemed resigned to her fate. He could do nothing but watch as the selkie male took her from him, the pain of the loss no less real than that caused by his leg.

He became aware of a voice, Katniss' voice, repeating, "It's not real Peeta, it's not real," over and over in a calming mantra, but rather than having the desired effect it made him feel more desperate. What was it exactly that was not real, his dream, the kiss at the dock, or perhaps the love he had thought she felt for him?

When he opened his eyes to her, she tried to kiss him, but he turned his head away - he did not want the taste of the selkie that she still wore on her lips. He rolled to his side and she snuggled close behind him. She wrapped her arms around him, but he felt trapped by their uncomfortable weight. He did not want her arms on him, arms that had held another that same night.

What a fool he had been to think that a girl such as her – so beautiful and unique - would truly have loved him. He could see his mother laughing at him now, at how stupid he had been. He made no attempt to hold back the fat tears that stole silently from his eyes and soaked into his pillow.

**...~...**

Peeta had seemed physically exhausted from his nightmare and fallen asleep again soon after. But he had felt different in her arms. Cold and distant, his body stiff, he did not relax until he had fallen back asleep.

Having not witnessed one of Peeta's night terrors before, she presumed it was normal for him to be like this after he experienced one and that he would be alright in the morning.

But he wasn't.

When she woke Peeta was moving about his room getting ready for the day. He said, without stopping to look at her, that his mother had ordered him and his brother to give the bakery kitchen a thorough cleaning, but she could not understand why he had not mentioned it the night before.

As she sat in bed and watched him dress she saw the look he gave her in the mirror, one she knew he had not meant for her to see. He looked at her with cold blue eyes that seemed to hold no love for her at all and she could not continue to pretend that all was right when clearly it was not.

When he sat down on the edge of the bed to lace his boots she hesitantly reached a hand to his shoulder. "Peeta?" She felt him flinch slightly under her touch before he pulled away to cross the room.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked growing concerned that this was more than merely the normal aftermath of his nightmare. "Please tell me."

"_Me_!" he turned to face her, "have something I need to tell _you_?" She blinked, stunned by his sudden outburst. His face was set hard and he did not look like her Peeta.

"I think it's you who has something to say. When were you going to tell me, Katniss?" She just stared at him, her face in shock. Could he mean last night? But how could he have found out?

"No? Nothing you want to say? Let me help you then. I followed you. I saw you last night, Katniss. I saw you kissing him."

She felt cold panic grip her, but then she realised that if Peeta had seen the kiss, then he had also seen her pull away and slap Gale. Surely she would be able to explain she had not wanted to kiss him.

"So tell me," Peeta continued in the same cold manner, "do you meet with him often?"

"No." She shook her head, shocked that Peeta would even think that.

"But I heard what he said, it was more than one kiss wasn't it?"

"Yes," she nodded reluctantly. He turned away from her again, and she saw his shoulders sag.

"Peeta, please you have to understand," their eyes met in the mirror but he quickly looked away. "I…when I'm with Gale I can't think straight, I don't know how he does it but I think that he bewitches me. It's as if I'm hypnotized and afterwards my mind is befuddled. I know what I have done but I can't understand why."

Peeta did not turn around, instead he stood turning one of the shells they'd collected from the beach that now sat atop his dresser over and over in his hand. Wrapping the sheet about her she stood, intending to go to him, but stopped herself, afraid of the rejection she was certain to receive if she attempted to put her arms around him. "Please, Peeta, believe me I didn't know that it would happen again."

"Again?" he turned and she saw the hurt register on his face "Last night wasn't the first time you kissed him?"

"Peeta, please let me explain," she pleaded, but he was not listening.

"You're telling me that he's kissed you before last night? That he can put you in a trance where he can do whatever he wants with you and yet you still chose to go back to meet with him?"

"Gale does not do whatever he wants with me," she snapped back insulted. "The only reason I met with him was because I wanted news of my father."

"Really, that's the only reason you went to meet with him? Come on, Katniss, if you didn't want more, you wouldn't have snuck off in the middle of the night and lied to me."

His insinuation stung; it wasn't fair, yet she knew that last night the secret meeting with Gale had felt wrong. "He did kiss me, yes, but I pushed him away and then I slapped him. I didn't want to kiss him."

"That's not how it looked from where I was standing. If I hadn't followed you, would you have even told me about last night, any of it? Or would you have just kept lying to me, meeting with him behind my back? Kissing him or whatever else it is you do."

"Nothing, I do nothing else with him, how could you say that?"

"I don't know Katniss, let's see…I see you kissing a naked man, the two of you glued to each other, what should I believe?"

"You should believe me when I tell you I've done nothing but kiss him."

"It's getting very difficult to know what to believe when you keep lying to me," Peeta said, a weariness seeping into his tone. "Tell me, Katniss, what are you really doing here with me? Was it because of the selkies? Pity? Free food?"

"Is that what you really think of me? Do you think I would let you do those things if I didn't …" _Love you_ she was going to say, but she couldn't finish the sentence, she wouldn't let him know that, not now. This was exactly why she had not wanted to fall in love, the last thing she wanted was to end up like her mother, weakened by her own emotions. She was angry that she had allowed herself to become so vulnerable.

"_Let_ me do those things? How generous of you! But then it seems you've been _letting_ a lot of people do things to you, haven't you?" He looked shocked by his own comment, regretful of what he'd said in anger, but it was too late to take it back.

She gasped. She may not have been completely truthful about her meetings with Gale, but that gave him no right to talk to her like that; she did not deserve it. She would never have thought he could be so hurtful.

"How dare you talk to me of love and honesty," she raged back at him. "Have you ever once mentioned your engagement to Magdalena?" She saw the surprise on his face. "What, did you think I didn't know? You accuse me of lying to you when all along you've been planning to marry someone else."

"It's not like that," he said, suddenly defensive.

"So the wedding has been called off has it?"

"It's not as easy as that, but I've never wanted to marry Magdalena."

"And what, I should just believe you when you're not prepared to believe me?"

Peeta did not immediately respond. But then he looked up and with sadness in his eyes asked, "Can you promise me that you won't see him again?"

"I… I don't know," her voice was full of uncertainty. She knew her answer would hurt Peeta, but to agree to never see Gale again was to give up all hope of ever finding her birth father.

She could feel her body start to tremble, rapidly losing her composure, and she wanted to escape before she exposed her vulnerability further and did something stupid like cry in front of him. She bundled up her clothes and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

When she emerged again, he sat on the bed waiting for her, looking sad and deflated.

"Katniss, I'm sorry," he said walking towards her, "please don't go."

"I've had enough talking for one day, Peeta. I'm tired, it was a very long and eventful night, and I want to go home."

"I didn't mean the things I said Katniss, I was angry. I don't want you to leave."

"Well I did mean them, Peeta. You accuse me of sneaking around behind your back but that's exactly what we do. We hide from everyone, making sure your mother doesn't catch us. I've had enough of putting on a show and pretending, I don't want to do this any more."

"Please, Katniss, don't do this."

"Why? Have you changed your mind about Gale? Do you believe me now?"

He didn't answer immediately and she saw his doubt still remained.

"Then I don't think there's anything else to say**,"** she snapped angrily. "I never wanted any of this Peeta, I was happy being me, happy being ignorant, but that wasn't good enough for you. You had to fill my head with stories and self-doubt until I didn't even know who I was anymore. I wouldn't be in any of this mess it weren't for you - estranged from my mother, no longer knowing who my real father is. I would never have even contacted Gale if it hadn't been for your insistence that I was different in the first place." She took a deep breath, aware that her voice had become shaky. "You have a choice about who you marry, but I can't change who or what my father is. Perhaps when you're no longer engaged we can talk, but until then I think it would be a good idea if we didn't see each other."

"Katniss, please."

But she didn't wait, she needed to get out of there before the tears fell, so she fled.

She walked along the waterfront till she found an isolated spot and sat looking out to sea, seeking solace in the one place that always brought her comfort. She gritted her teeth; she would not let herself cry. She had already shed enough tears over him. The more she thought about what he had said the angrier she felt. She may not have been completely honest with him up front, but they both had their secrets, didn't they? She did not deserve having him to talk to her like that.

Why was Peeta so willing to believe the worst of her? Her father's lectures on morality rang in her ears, had he been right when he had warned that no man could ever fully respect a girl who gave herself away so freely? She had thought that Peeta had understood, that he knew that it was not like that for her. Yet he had not been prepared to listen to her about Gale, as if he had already made up his mind about what kind of girl she was. She knew the reputation of the girls at the fishworks, ready for a good time, and for some like Jo that description wasn't so far from the truth. But was that really how Peeta viewed her? Just an easy girl to have some fun with before they both went their ways, she back home at the end of the fishing season and he to his new home as a married man.

As she replayed his lack of explanation for not yet having ended his engagement, she felt mad at herself, how could she have been so stupid as to not see what was blindingly obvious? Peeta had not ended the engagement because he still planned to marry Magdalena. Whatever this had been between them, Peeta clearly did not feel for her as deeply as she did for him.

The more this realization sunk in, the more she wanted to just curl up in her own bed and hide from the world. She had to pass by the bakery to reach the boarding house, and intended to rush past without even looking. But when she reached it she was stopped in her tracks as the shop door opened and a group exited. Peeta, his mother, Magdalena and her father stood there all dressed in their Sunday best. Katniss pulled back a little so they would not see her.

Magdalena's father was thanking Mrs. Mellark for the tea, commending her for the delicious cake, and Magdalena smiled dutifully and thanked her host politely. As her father continued to talk to Mrs. Mellark, Magdalena moved closer to whisper in Peeta's ear. His previously impassive face broke into a smile as he turned to respond to her.

Her fears that Peeta was still planning to marry were confirmed; the life that he and Magdalena could have was laid out before her. It would make no difference whether she was able to set things right with Peeta or not, his future was already mapped out for him. Katniss' heart sank even further as she questioned what kind of life she would be condemning him to if he left all this behind to be with her? She had heard what his mother had said - the bakery would not support two families, and Katniss could not offer him a livelihood as marriage to Magdalena could. Katniss would never willingly leave the area and Primrose, thus trapping Peeta here beneath his mother's roof. With no means of independently supporting himself he would never escape his mother's bullying control.

She noticed Magdalena slip her hand into Peeta's and give it a little squeeze. She told herself he could be happy with Magdalena as his wife and as angry as she was with him that morning, ultimately she wanted him to have the happiness she knew he deserved, even if she were not destined to share in it with him.

The sick feeling that these thoughts created had her clutch at her stomach and she tried to stifle the sob that escaped as she ran, leaving behind the happy scene of respectable merchants and a life she knew could never be hers.

* * *

**NOTES:**

Thank you so much to all the amazing people who left such lovely and encouraging reviews for the last chapter. They were hugely appreciated, I had a crappy Christmas and New Year with the flu so they were just what I needed.

Also a massive thank you to Katnissinme for betaing this and my hundreds of rewrites and for basically writing it herself in the end!


	15. Chapter 15

Katniss pulled her shawl tighter in a pointless attempt to keep herself dry. It had been raining all week. Not the storm that had threatened to blow in the fateful night she had swum with Gale, but a constant drizzle that slowly soaked into everything. It blanketed the town like a grey depression that seemed to affect the mood of everyone it touched as it seeped into their souls, leaving them in the foulest of moods. But today Katniss would not let it dampen her spirits, as today she was going to see her sister.

The only thing that had kept Katniss going over the last week had been the promise of getting to see Primrose. She knew Annie and Jo had been concerned about her; of course Katniss had not been able to tell them the whole story, so they did not know about her kissing Gale, but she had told them they had argued and about Peeta and Magdalena's impending marriage. Whilst Jo had cursed Peeta profusely, Annie's sympathy had been a little more constructive. She had arranged for Finnick, the fisherman who was courting her, to take Katniss home to the island. Finnick had the use of a small boat and it was agreed he would sail Katniss over on Saturday after work and come back to collect her Sunday afternoon.

She did not miss the irony that only a month ago she had been running _away_ from the island. Now, nowhere felt like she belonged. For a while it had felt like she had found a home, but Katniss tried not to think about that. It still hurt too much to think about _him_. She just tried to concentrate on the fact that soon she would see her sister again, and she knew that Prim's infectious optimism was exactly what she needed right now.

Annie was coming along for the journey, and Katniss was glad to have her company as they walked down to the dock. Annie chattered away happily keeping Katniss' mind from wandering to darker thoughts. Listening to Annie talk about Finnick, Katniss realised how openly in love the girl was, how unlike Katniss she was. Annie, in comparison, seemed to have no fear at all of being hurt by her love for Finnick.

When they got closer they could hear the clamour of raised voices coming from the large group of townspeople gathered at the dock. Annie made her way over to where Finn stood, leaving Katniss on the edge of the throng. Looking around the crowd her chest tightened as she caught sight of Peeta.

It was the first time she had seen him since that day outside the bakery. It hurt to look at him, but she could not tear her eyes away. She was glad that he did not see her, so she did not have to pretend that she did not care. He was deep in conversation, gesticulating with his hands as he always did when he was excited, and wore a look of concern on his face.

She did not notice Annie and Finnick until they stood in front of her, blocking Peeta from her view.

"What's happening?" Katniss asked. "What's everyone doing here?'

Annie took hold of her hand, "Katniss, it's the island, your home. It's been quarantined because of the fever - no one can get there and no one can leave."

"What do you mean?"

"It's the fever, Katniss. They're saying several people have already died. They can't risk it reaching the town, not after last time. So many lost family, they just won't let it happen again."

"People have already died?" she said, a cold feeling spreading over her.

"Yes, they think about 10 in total, mainly the old and the very young."

Katniss wasn't listening as Finnick and Annie tried to convince her that her family would be alright and that she had nothing to fear. All she could think was that Prim was always the one to catch colds and flu in winter. Katniss was the one to nurse her through it. Would mother would be lucid enough to care for Primrose now, she wondered?

"…that's right," said a loud man to her right. "I heard there were four more deaths last night - an old couple, a wee bairn and a lass of 14."

"Prim!" she gasped loudly. Fourteen - that was Prim's age, but it couldn't be her. She couldn't be dead or dying, Katniss would not let that happen. "I have to get to the island!" she cried.

She didn't care that she was making a scene nor that everyone was staring at her. "You don't understand," she argued as Finn held her back from pushing forward toward the boats, "I have to get to Prim!" She frantically struggled against him but she could not break his grip.

"Katniss, they'll never allow you, there's no hope of getting there now," reasoned Annie.

Katniss was aware of Peeta pushing through the crowd toward her, calling out her name, as she sunk to her knees in despair. He did not manage to reach her before Finn scooped her up in his strong arms. She let herself be cradled like a child as he carried her back to the boarding house.

Katniss had finally fallen asleep, exhausted from sobbing and shouting and arguing with anyone who came near. When she awoke again it was almost dark. The room was empty; the others had obviously decided to give her some space. An irrational plan formed in her head as she lay looking up at the ceiling. She had to get to the island. She had to know if Primrose was alright. The only thing that had held her together over the last week was knowing she would see her sister again. How could she have been so selfish at midsummer to run away before she had a chance to spend any time with Primrose? She would not allow herself to think that would never happen now. She could not stand idly by; she would go to Primrose, and she would smuggle her off of the island.

She made her way to the docks, but instead of them being deserted as she had hoped they were abuzz with the voices of men. One much louder than the other was accusing them. "How could you just leave him there?"

"There was nothing we could do, he had been in contact. He could have been infected. We couldn't risk bringing him back." She heard another answer, "He knew the risk he was taking."

"That's bollocks and you know it!" the first man shouted back.

When the man turned to storm away she saw it was Rowan. He pushed past her, not even seeing her. She was frozen as comprehension of the scene she had witnessed sunk in. She turned and ran after him, calling him to stop.

He looked as if he had aged twenty years since she had seen him last. "Rowan, what is it, what happened? Is it Peeta?"

He closed his eyes and nodded, "The bloody fool, he stepped up to go with the volunteers taking supplies to the island. They were throwing barrels of food out to the islanders in the shallows when one of the women tripped and went under and didn't come back up again. Of course, my brother being who he is, had to jump in and save her, didn't even think of the consequences. And these cowards, these bastards," he shouted back toward them loud enough for them to hear, "they left him there. Said that because he'd helped her back to dry land, because he'd touched her, he was no longer safe to bring back. They wouldn't let him back on the boat. Those arseholes, they just left him there to rot!"

Peeta! This was her fault, she was sure he had volunteered to go to the island because of her, because of her cries for Prim. "So what happens now, they leave him there?"

"They told him to stay on the beach, not to talk to anyone or go into their homes. That they would come back for him."

"But?" she got the feeling there was something more he wasn't saying.

"Now they've chickened out, they're not going back."

"What! We have to go get him, we could take a boat."

"It's no good, don't you think I would if I could? The town has set up a flotilla blocking the bay between here and the island to ensure no one tries to get off. Orders are to shoot anyone they see trying to flee."

"But …but we can't leave him there."

"What can we do?" said Rowan his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Unless you can get him to swim back there's no hope."

…~…

Katniss waited until she heard the church clock chime three o'clock before she crept out of bed. She had been fully dressed under the sheets. She picked up her boots and tip-toed downstairs, not stopping to put them on until she was out of the house. She strapped a pack her back that she had prepared earlier containing everything she hoped she would need. It was a cloudy night and the way was difficult with limited visibility. By the time she reached their beach her shins were scratched and her skirt torn from tripping and snagging on the bushes. She first set her bundle down in the cave and then walked to the waters edge. It wasn't hard to find enough tears - tears of regret, sorrow, fear and anger. They flowed freely and she didn't bother to count. She just cried out Gale's name over and over between her sobs.

"What is it?" Gale said as he stepped from the water in his human form. He rushed toward her, "What is the matter, are you hurt?"

Wiping her eyes she tried to swallow down her tears, shaking her head vigorously. "I need…I need to ask another favour of you."

"What is it you need?"

In a choked voice she explained about the island, the fever, the quarantine, her family and lastly about Peeta. She knew there was no way Gale could find her family home to rescue Prim and her mother, but he would be able to find the landing at the beach and hopefully Peeta would still be there.

"Please, I'm begging you. Bring him back. We can't get past the blockade in a boat, but you would be strong enough to tow him back with you."

"And why should I do that?" he asked coolly. "I've seen the boats on the water tonight, I know the men have guns. So tell me, why should I risk my life to return your lover to you? What's in it for me?" She had not expected Gale to do it for nothing, there was always a price, but she had not thought about what she would offer.

She did not have time to play games bartering back and forth. The truth was she would do anything, she knew she would give Gale whatever he wanted, so long as he brought Peeta back.

"You tell me what you want Gale. What will it take for you to do this?"

He looked at her for some time before he gave his reply, "You leave with me tonight. You'll live with me as my mate or wife if you prefer the human term, and you never come back."

It was a losing hand either way - make the deal and never see Peeta again, or refuse Gale's offer and risk losing him anyway. She could not leave his fate to chance on an island filled with disease. If Peeta died she would not be able to live with herself knowing that she had sat by and done nothing to save him. She saw no alternative.

And so she nodded.

She explained how Peeta had been instructed to wait on the beach and described him best as she could, although Gale commented with exasperation that all the locals looked exactly the same to him, with their fair looks and light eyes.

"Explain to him that I sent you, but please, I beg you, whatever you do don't tell him about our agreement."

Gale nodded, "As you wish."

Katniss watched Gale grab his pelt from where it lay on the rocks and then dive back into the sea. When he surfaced again some way out to sea, the sleek black head of a seal was just visible. She paced back and forth, up and down the beach, tearing at her nails with her teeth. She felt she would go insane, unable to bear the wait until they returned.


	16. Chapter 16

Peeta had known something was wrong when he realised he felt warm - he knew that should be impossible. He was soaked to the bone, from the sea and then from the constant rain that had been falling on him ever since. He'd tried at first to take cover, although it was scarce here at the coast, but he didn't want to wander too far inland in case the others came back for him.

But now, as he sat slumped on the rocks looking out towards the mainland and the lights that he could see from the lanterns in the boats between that blocked any escape by the islanders, he knew that his chances of leaving the island alive were dwindling. His skin, especially his forehead, was hot to the touch, and although he had not eaten for hours he had no appetite - the first symptoms of the fever. After that it would be only a matter of time before he grew deliriously feverish and then fell into a state of unconsciousness.

The fever took hold quickly, mere hours after contact, and within 24 hours you would either be one of the lucky few who recovered, or dead.

He cursed his idiocy at wasting the last week he could have spent with Katniss by being too stubborn to go and apologise. He had apologised to her the morning of the argument and she had refused to listen. After, when he had brooded over the situation, he felt that it was not for him to apologise any further. She was the one who had been in the wrong after all; if anyone were to say sorry it should be her. And besides he still could not see a logical way to escape the marriage to Magdalena and provide a life for Katniss - he still did not have anything to offer her.

But now it all seemed so pointless - the argument, his refusal to apologise. He knew that eventually he would have sought out Katniss anyway and begged her to understand, but now he had wasted a whole week, his last week, all because of his pride. Now he would never get to see her again, for he knew that there was no hope of the others rescuing him from the beach, not now, not in his state. He would never get to tell her that he loved her and wished more than anything that he had told her, at least once before he died. He'd wanted to wait, to be free from Magdalena and his mother, but he should have just told her. He should have said it that morning after they had argued, although he doubted that in her temper it would have made much difference to the outcome of their fight. But still, he should have said it, he should not have left her in any doubt about the way that he felt for her.

The ridiculous thing was that the week before the argument he had attempted to put the wheels in motion to end his engagement. He had sought out first his father and then his brother to gain their support for ending his engagement, but he had been less than successful.

He was not sure what he had expected from his father. Grasping an opportunity when they were alone in the kitchen, Peeta had explained to his father that he wanted his support to call off the wedding to Magdalena. Peeta could tell the conversation made his father truly uncomfortable. He ran his hand through his graying hair nervously and his eyes flicked repeatedly to the door, as if he expected to be caught at any moment.

"You know how your mother would feel about this, Peeta."

Peeta sighed, for he knew he was fighting a losing battle; for a physically powerful man his father was incredibly weak. He doubted that the man had made a decision of his own since his wedding day.

"You have to understand, Father, I can't marry Magdalena…I'm in love with someone else."

His father looked actually scared by Peeta's revelation.

"I …I don't think you know what you're saying Peeta, or what it took for your mother to arrange this union. Magdalena is a nice girl, she'll make a good wife and the business will provide a safe income."

"But I don't _love_ her father," Peeta insisted with a touch of exasperation. It was clear he would get no support here.

Mr. Mellark smiled at his son sadly, "Sometimes love just isn't our destiny," he said.

He gave another nervous glance toward the shop front where his wife served at the counter and quickly went back to work, the conversation at an end.

Peeta had hoped for more understanding from Rowan, but when he explained how he felt about the upcoming wedding and Katniss, he saw how his brother sighed and shook his head.

"Peeta, you have to see that this union would be good for you. I know that mother has a funny way of showing it, but this is her way of making sure you'll be taken care of. The chandlery will make a comfortable living for you and your family. And Magdalena is a nice lass, she has a pretty face and a pleasing figure - you could do a lot worse."

"I could do a lot better. I don't love her, I love Katniss."

"I know, I know," Rowan gave another deep sigh. Placing his hand on Peeta's shoulder he continued.

"When mother first told me I was to wed Orla, I can't say I was any too pleased about it. I hardly knew the girl and she wasn't exactly the kind of woman I was used to spending my time with." Peeta knew what his brother meant, Orla was the shy, quiet kind, her body a little rounder than the shapely girls Rowan had kept company with before he wed. "But perhaps Mother knew what kind of girl was right for me better than I did myself. We've grown to love each other, perhaps not with the passionate love you feel you have for Katniss. But in my experience, that burns itself out with time anyway."

"What kind of life would you be able to offer Katniss, huh? The two of you cooped up in that cupboard above the barn, making a living off of what? An empty pocket and an empty stomach have a tendency to outweigh any dreams of love."

"But I love her, Rowan," Peeta implored his brother to understand, "I want to be with her."

With a shrug Rowan said, "And perhaps you still could. Just because you're married doesn't mean you have to stop seeing each other."

"I couldn't do that!" Peeta was shocked by his brother's suggestion. "That is not the way I want to be with her, I don't want what we have to be some dirty secret that we have to hide. I want her to be my wife. I love her."

"And does she love you, brother?"

Peeta couldn't answer, the words had not been spoken by either of them. He believed she did, but she had not said it.

Rowan, gave a small smile and patted Peeta's shoulder. "Just don't make any decisions that you'll come to regret." And with that he had left Peeta to stew in his own thoughts.

Peeta watched the waves break against the rocks, and wondered whether the growing haze before his eyes was a result of sea mist or his mind's inability to focus. Several times he fell asleep, his head lolling forward and his jaw dropping open before he jolted back awake. Finally, he opened his eyes to find the horizon vertical before him, the hard rock beneath his cheek. He had fallen to his side and now laid prostate on the ground, and he did not have the energy or the will to raise himself back up. Instead he let his eyes close once again; if he were to die here like this then he would spend his last lucid hours, or moments perhaps, remembering all the times they had been together. He recalled a particularly blissful day on the beach, and the way she had moaned his name under his touch.

"Peeta, Peeta." But then a hand was shaking him roughly. "For pity's sake boy will you wake up?" He opened his eyes from his dream to his nightmare. The face that had haunted him for nights, the selkie from the docks was inches from him.

"You!" but the accusation came out slurred and muffled.

"Ah, so you are still alive," the selkie said, taking no notice of Peeta's comment. "Tell me boy, is your name Peeta?"

If he closed his eyes again would this nightmare disappear? Did he only think he was awake when truly this was merely a hallucination? But when he closed his eyes, the shaking started again, more forcefully this time, and the selkie's voice was growing more annoyed. "I just need you to tell me, are you Peeta?" Then, laced with impatience Peeta heard the selkie mutter, "Never mind, I'll take you anyway. I can always throw you back in the sea if you're the wrong one."

The image from his nightmare of the selkie dragging Katniss to the water and then of him stamping upon his leg flashed in his mind. Fear at the sudden awareness that this was real and not a nightmare from which he could awaken caused Peeta to lash out. He would not let him take him. But his body was already too weakened by the fever to raise himself from the ground and the intended blows fell well short of their target as he tried to swing his arm.

"So help me stay still or I'll smash your head against the rocks and that will keep you quiet," and with that, Peeta felt the scrape of the rough surface of the rock as he was dragged into the water. He struggled, trying to kick, his body suddenly revived as it hit the icy sea. He coughed and spluttered as the salt water filled his mouth and nose. "I'm trying to help you," the selkie growled, "Katniss sent me for you."

_Katniss!? _He didn't know whether to be relieved or dismayed by the news that she had sent the selkie to collect him, but he stopped his struggle and allowed the selkie to turn him on his back, keeping his head above the water. He could just make out the lights from the boats but they were getting further away as if they were heading in the opposite direction, far out to sea. Then Peeta saw no more, the extra exertion from the struggle and the sting from the salt water made it impossible to keep his eyes open and he slipped into the darkness once again.

All became black and he knew he must have died for he heard the angel's voice when he was finally laid to rest; it told him it was all over, he would be alright and he could sleep now, she would look after him.

…**~…**

Katniss thought she would go mad with worry as she stared out to sea, too numb to pace any longer. When she finally saw Gale carry Peeta's limp body from the water she surged forward as he laid Peeta down above the waterline. "Peeta!" she cried, her hands flying to his pale, lifeless face before turning to Gale with full fury. "What have you done to him? You've killed him."

"I've done nothing to him," Gale hissed back angrily. "He has the fever, it was pointless bringing him back, he'll be dead by the morning."

"No!" she sobbed, shaking her head in frenzied distress. "No, he can't die. I can't… I won't leave him like this. The deal was you save him."

"The deal was I fetch him from the island, no mention of alive or dead," he said shortly.

"But he can't, he can't die. You have to do something," she implored in desperation. "Save him and I promise you I'll go with you willingly, I'll live as your wife, I'll stay with you, I'll never come back. Just, _please_, you have to do something, he can't die."

"I thought that was already the deal we'd made?" he replied harshly, and she saw that he understood that she had not really intended to go through with the earlier deal. She had only said it to get him to agree to her request. "I'll save your boy and when you come with me I will care for you and treat you with the respect a mate deserves," Gale promised before he continued darkly, "but you would be wise to remember that a bargain made with the selkie is not something that a person enters into lightly, and it is not prudent to attempt to double cross us."

He disappeared back into the waves leaving her alone with Peeta on the shoreline. Peeta's face was pale and she could hear his breath coming in shallow rasps. His forehead felt like fire beneath her fingers yet he shivered as if he felt the cold. Kneeling beside him she lifted his head to her lap and stroked back his fringe from his face. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry Peeta, I never meant to hurt you."

"Here, give him this." She jumped, not having heard Gale return. He offered her what looked like a piece of bark, "It needs to be chewed and then swallowed. It should break his fever, and if he's lucky, he'll live."

She nodded in gratitude. "Please, could you help me to move him?"

Gale lay Peeta down in the cave and turned to leave but Katniss put her hand to his arm to stop him. "Thank you, Gale, for the medicine, for everything."

"I could see that you would not be the same if he died, and I do not wish for you to change," he answered solemnly.

She stared at him dumbfounded. Did he not realise that that was inevitable? The moment she left with him she would never be the same again.

"I'll return tomorrow night," Gale said simply, but she knew what he meant was that he would return for her.

Katniss lit one of the candles she had packed, melding it to rock with its melted wax. It would be dawn soon, but at the back of the cave away from the entrance it was still almost entirely dark.

For a moment she stood unsure what she should do first, tend to Peeta's wet clothes or administer the medicine. She looked at the bark in her hand, putting it to her own mouth to test it she discovered that there was no way Peeta would be able to process it in his current state. It took great effort to first bite off a piece and then she had to work at it for some time, until her jaws ached, to chew it into a swallowable state. Taking a metal canteen from her pack she mixed water with a small piece of the bark on top of one of the flatter rocks, grinding it with a pebble. It took some time, and she began to wonder whether it would have been wiser to have removed his wet clothes first, but eventually she was able to make a paste from the bark.

Raising his head onto her lap she pushed the mush past his lips and tried to wash it down with some water. It took several attempts, with Peeta coughing and spitting it back out, before she managed to get him to take it.

She saw him shiver again, and knew he had been in his clothes too long. She first laid out the blankets she had brought with her, before attempting to remove his clothes, it was a struggle as the wet material clung to his body. When at last he was naked, she managed to roll him onto one of the blankets and covered him with the other.

Only when her tasks were complete did she notice that her own body had begun to shake. She wasn't sure if it was the cold from her own clothes and hair dampened by the rain, or the enormity of whole situation finally hitting her. She stripped off her own wet clothes and laid them beside Peeta's on the rocks before she slipped between the blankets with him.

He tried to say something but his words were soundless. She smoothed his hair and whispered, "It's alright Peeta, it's over. You can sleep now and I'll look after you. I promise I won't leave you." She felt her lip tremble, "I'll be here when you wake up."

He shivered with the cold as she wrapped her arms around him and she felt the fire of his body against her own. But for all his heat she could not rid herself of the icy feeling that gripped her. She blew out the candle, but she remained awake in the dark, with no hope of sleep.

What had she done? She had made a promise that she could not renege on. She thought about Gale's unmistakable warning earlier. She did not think that he would actually physically hurt her, after all he had done nothing but help her since she had met him. But she felt that he was used to getting what he wanted and he knew her weaknesses now - Peeta and her family on the island. He would know how to hurt her through the ones she loved.

Prim! She thought with a sob. She didn't want to admit it, but a part of her was still certain the man at the dock had been talking about Primrose when he'd mentioned a 14-year-old. She prayed for it not to be true. How would she find out now? Would Gale let her go to the island to find her family? She had promised to leave her human life, but would he not let her find out if they were alive or … she couldn't bring herself to think the word. If she could get to them and give them the bark as she had Peeta then surely they would be alright, she could save them too.

There had to be a way to escape the deal with Gale. She tried to recall every detail from Peeta's notebook. Every story, every fact that might give her some answer. But in her desperate state all she could think of were all the tales of vengeful selkies seeking retribution. She recalled Sae's story of the selkie's fury when their young were killed. Their vengeance on the island, the storm and the disappearance of the livestock. Another tale had been told of a boatman blinded in anger, his only crime being that he had peeked from beneath his blindfold, therefore breaking his promise not to look at the secret island that he rowed his selkie passenger to.

Katniss could not run from him and she would not leave Peeta here alone. He could not stand let alone run away with her and if Gale were to return and find only Peeta, Katniss having fled, she hated to think what he would do in his anger.

The only thing that was ever mentioned that had any hope of placating them was their love of silver. Katniss did not believe that even if she had any, that it would help her in this instance.

She must have fallen asleep, for when she awoke a short time later she was aware of Peeta drenched in sweat beside her. The heat radiated from him and she felt overwhelmed by it. She pushed the covers from her and sat up, letting the damp cave air cool her skin. Reaching for her clothes, she tore a strip from the bottom of her skirt. It was still cold and wet, and she laid the strip across Peeta's forehead. She only hoped that it was a good sign, that this was the height of his fever and from here it would burn itself out. But his breath was still heavy between his parted lips, and his face was a ghostly white that did not seem to fit with the warmth that emanated from him. He still looked so close to death. He could not die, she could not lose him. With that thought she closed her eyes and bit her lip, her face crumpling in pain as she sniffed back the tears. She knew she would lose him anyway, he was hers only until the coming night and then she would leave everything behind her, then she would belong to Gale.

…~…

Peeta strained to open his eyes, it was almost too dark to see. Was this what death was, just empty darkness? But if he was dead why was he so thirsty? He tried to wet his dry lips but his mouth seemed to be entirely without moisture and he let out an exhausted sigh.

"Shush, here, drink this." He felt a hand behind his head raise him and the cold metal of the canteen against his lips before the cold water met them. He drank with desperate greed, the water spilling down his chin before the canteen was taken away and his head gently lowered.

"Katniss?" he managed.

"It's alright, I'm here, you're going to be alright." The voice of the angel last night, of course it had been her.

He'd never thought he'd get the chance to hear her voice, to see her again, to touch her, to tell her he loved her. At once it was most important thing in the world to make sure she knew exactly how he felt, he never wanted to risk losing her again.

He turned towards her, still only just able to make out a slight outline of her shape. He reached out his hand to her, the action taking tremendous effort since his arm was mostly a feeble dead weight. His palm found her cheek and she held his hand there with hers. "I love you, Katniss."

"I love you, too, Peeta." He didn't miss the break in her voice, it sounded as if she were trying not to cry.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, I didn't mean those things, I love you. I want to marry you. I love you so much." He couldn't believe he had held back from telling her how he felt before, because now he had said it he couldn't stop wanting to tell her over and over. "Promise you'll never leave me again."

"Shush, Peeta, I'm here now. You need to rest, go back to sleep."

Part of him was afraid to close his eyes, to discover that all this was another dream and that when he woke he would discover she had never been there. But his eyes felt heavy and he was not strong enough to win the struggle to keep them open. He felt her body beside him, her fingers combing gently though his hair as she sang softly to him, a sad lullaby about the sea. He tried to listen to the words but they faded into the darkness as his eyes fell closed.

* * *

**Notes**:

Sorry this update ended up being a lot shorter than intended but I keep getting distracted and start writing other stuff instead (anyone fancy a little ww2 romance?). So rather than wait 'til I finish the second half of this chapter I thought I'd just up date now.

I hope this chapter redeems Katniss' character a little after what some people saw as her lack of remorse for kissing Gale!

Thank you so much for all the lovely comments about the last chapter, sorry I haven't had a chance to get back to you but I really really do appreciate all your comments.


	17. Chapter 17

When Peeta woke again, the sun had risen and he no longer found himself in darkness. It took a moment to recognise that he was staring at the roof of the cave. In a sudden movement that made his already dizzy head spin, he turned to his side as he realized he was not alone. He could feel her warm against him, and when he turned he found her watching him intently with red rimmed eyes that intimated that she had been crying.

"Katniss," he croaked, his voice hoarse and his throat painfully dry.

She gave him a sad smile, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to overflow again and Peeta saw her swallow hard, as if forcing them back down, as she reached behind her for the water canister. She helped him to sit when they both realised he was too shaky and weak to manage it alone. Katniss held the canteen to his lips as he used both his arms to support his weight on the blanket, and then she wiped away the water that trickled down his chin.

He kissed her hand, his eyes not leaving hers, and then with a sob she engulfed him, her arms wrapping around him as he collapsed back onto the ground.

"I thought…I thought I was going to lose you, I thought you were going to die. I love you so much, Peeta." He wrapped an arm around her as her sobs racked through her body.

"Shh, Katniss, it's alright," he said, lifting his head a little. "Look at me. I'm alright."

She raised her head, her cheeks wet with tears, no longer attempting to hold them back. "I'm not going anywhere," he said with a reassuring smile, "and I swear I'm not letting you go again."

Rather than give her comfort this only fueled her sobs. He held her to him, stroking her hair and whispering what he hoped were soothing words. He told her everything he had regretted not saying to her as he'd lain dying last night. He told her he loved her, and how sorry he was for their argument. He explained about the wedding and his mother's arrangement with Magdalena's father, and that he wanted none of it, that there was only one person he could imagine spending the rest of his life with, and that was her.

"But how?" she had asked.

"We'll leave," he said, "go to the capital and find work somehow. We'll leave tonight if we have to." He saw it with total clarity, the life that they would have together. He wanted her by his side everyday, to wake with her in his bed each morning, to wear his ring, and for the first time he even considered them with a family of their own. Beautiful, dark-haired children with dark eyes like their mother's. And he swore to ensure their upbringing would be very different from his own. He wanted to get away from here, no longer afraid of leaving the only home he'd ever known. If Katniss was with him, then he was certain they could survive.

His plans to abscond seemed to be the very words she needed to hear and he felt Katniss relax a little in his arms. She shifted to bring her lips to his in a gentle peck, but he wanted more. His hand wove through the hair that had fallen loose from the messy braid she wore, and he held her to him as he turnedthe chaste kiss to one much deeper. He was suddenly very aware of their naked states beneath the blanket, her body atop his, and the smooth, warm skin of her back under his hands. But he also became crushingly aware that in his weakened state the situation was never going to translate into what he so desperately desired.

He cooled his kisses, his hands coming to rest on her hips, and she sensed the change of pace and pulled back from their embrace. Rolling to her side, her head resting on her bent arm, she reached out to push his hair back from his face.

"You must be hungry," she said. "You should eat something. It will help you get your strength back." He noticed a faint pink tint to her cheeks that made him smile.

Katniss reached to retrieve her pack, the blanket falling from her body as she did so. Peeta had thought he would never live to see her like this again and so did not shy away from enjoying the sight. She was utterly beautiful.

As she turned back, she caught him studying her and she attempted to retuck the blanket about her, but he shook his head and pulled the blanket back down. With an incredulous look she gave a mock huff of indignation and he just shrugged and grinned as he cheekily appealed to her. "I nearly died," he gave by way of an excuse. "I didn't think I'd ever be so lucky as to see you again. You wouldn't deny a man the chance to fulfill his dying wish, would you?"

"You're not dying any more, Peeta," she admonished. "Now be quiet and eat." But he saw the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth and noticed that she left herself uncovered.

Peeta had not thought he was hungry until he began to eat, and then he discovered he was famished. He ate heartily on the bread and cheese, and when she pulled out the wedge of fruit cake she admitted stealing from the boarding house kitchen, he devoured it quickly, promising to bake a replacement.

He sleepily laid back down, his stomach comfortably full after their makeshift feast. Katniss lay beside him, her head resting in the crook of his arm. "Thank you," he said.

"It was nothing," she smiled, "just what I could find in the kitchen."

"Not the food, thank you for rescuing me, for saving my life. How did you manage it?"

"Don't you remember?" she asked puzzled.

"Some, I'm not sure. I can't tell what was a dream and what was real."

"I…" she hesitated nervously, "I asked Gale to save you. Rowan told me the men weren't going to go back for you and I had to do something. I couldn't leave you there alone."

Peeta nodded, "I wasn't sure if that part was real or not, but I think I remember him now."

"You're not cross?" she asked concerned.

"Katniss, how could I be cross with you for saving me? But I don't understand, I had the fever, I should be dead by now."

"Gale gave me something, a plant that the selkies use for medicine. It broke the fever and cured you." She looked at him anxiously. "Peeta, did you hear anything of my family, did anyone know whether Prim and my mother were alright?"

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I asked the people on the beach, but they hadn't heard any news of them." He saw the worry etched on her face and he sought to reassure her. "I reckon that has to be good, no news is good news, right? If Prim had been the girl who died then they would have known. I'm sure your family will be alright, Katniss."

"I just… I wish I had been able to send Gale for them as well. But the cottage is so far inland he would never have found it if he didn't know his way around the island. I just feel so helpless, knowing that they're still there and there's nothing I can do to help them."

Peeta put his hand to her cheek and she leant into the warmth of his palm. "It's going to be alright, Katniss." She managed a weak smile, but her eyes conveyed that she knew otherwise and a worrying thought suddenly came to him.

"Katniss, what did you offer him in return?" he asked uneasily.

"Nothing, I don't know what you mean," she rebuffed, busying herself with putting her pack away and avoiding his eyes.

"Yes, you do. Selkies never do anything for free."

"That's not true. You, yourself, as a child were saved by the kindness of a selkie. Gale owed me after all the trouble that he caused with his forced kisses. He helped you to pay me back."

"A selkie in debt to a human? Now there's a rare thing," he said, watching her expression closely. It may have been true that a selkie woman had taken pity on a child and pulled him from the waters that stormy night, but from what Peeta could remember of last night, Gale did not strike him as the sort that would do anything out of the kindness of his heart. And that worried Peeta. "What have you done Katniss? What did you promise him?" he pressed anxiously.

"Nothing, I told you. Gale owed me. There's nothing to worry about," she assured him, but he could not shake the feeling that she was hiding something.

"You should rest," she said changing the subject, "get some more sleep." She stroked his hair and began to sing to him, a sweet happy tune to begin with, but when the song ended he noticed she returned to the melancholy song he recalled her singing last night, and he wondered if she sang it intentionally or sub-consciously, concern for her family influencing her choice without her being aware.

He wanted to press the matter of Gale further, but Katniss was right, he was tired and did not want to ruin this moment. He just wanted to enjoy the fact that they were together again. They had plenty of time to discuss the selkie later when he was less exhausted and could think straight. He rolled to hold her closer to him and closed his eyes.

Peeta woke with a shiver; it was darker in the cave and he could hear the sound of heavy rainfall outside. He sat up with a start as he realized Katniss was no longer beside him. Mindful of their earlier conversation, he felt suddenly afraid of where she could be. He stood on wobbly legs and wrapped the blanket around him to cross to the mouth of the cave. He could see the sheets of rain lashing down on the beach outside.

"Katniss! Katniss!" He called her name out into the storm with growing alarm. He was about to brave the weather in search of her when he saw her making her way back up the beach.

"Peeta!" she exclaimed surprised to seeing him standing there.

"What were doing out there in that?" he said in shock, motioning to the raging weather as she shook the water from her.

"We had run out of food," she said simply "I went to find us something to eat." She held out her hands to show him the oysters she had collected.

Seeing her shiver, he unwrapped the blanket he wore and, draping it about her shoulders, embraced her. Her wet body was icy cold against his warmth.

They sat on the second blanket, huddled together, as Peeta pried open the shells. He handed the first to her and watched transfixed as she tossed her head back to let it slide down her throat. "Delicious," she murmured as she licked the salty residue from her lips.

He closed his eyes as he sucked down the next oyster, his tongue darting out to catch the bead of salted water at the corner of his mouth. When he opened his eyes again he saw her watching with him with a look akin to how he felt he must have regarded her moments ago.

They continued to eat in silence, Katniss' haul enough to abate their hunger. The cave was growing dark again and Katniss lit what was left of the candle.

"I wish we could light a fire," she said, looking around the cave for something to burn. He cast his eyes around but there was scant driftwood and none of the seaweed looked dry enough to catch light.

"Come here and I'll keep you warm," he offered, reaching out an arm to her. But instead of tucking underneath his arm as he expected, she pushed aside the blanket and mounted his lap to straddle him. He groaned as he felt the warmth between her legs pressed against the hard length he had sought to hide beneath the blanket.

"Katniss?" he questioned, wanting clarification of what she was initiating, but he let her silence him with her kiss. His hands moved to cradle her breasts, drawing his thumbs over her nipples. She moaned as she rocked her hips, causing him to slide along the length of her wetness. _Oh god,_ he thought, _that felt good_. How long had he wanted this? He wanted to continue, but with regret he realized now was not the best time. He still felt weak and did not want their first time to disappoint because he did not have the adequate strength to perform. But Katniss clearly had other ideas as she pushed him down on to his back. He looked up at her magnificent form above him, the shadows cast by the candlelight accentuating the curves of her body. He swore as he instinctively thrust, pressing against her, they were so close.

His hands on her ribs, he pulled her down to him so that he could place his open kisses to her breasts, sucking and biting at their hardened peaks. She moaned, slipping against him again as she aligned herself. He looked into her eyes and she bit her lip as she lowered herself. He gave a low moan as she stilled, and he was going to ask if she was alright, when she started to move again and the words got lost before he could utter them. He watched mesmerized as how at first she rose and fell over him. She slowly continued to readjust her movements until she found a comfortable position and speed. Rocking her hips against him, his hands gripped her buttocks, feeling her muscles tense as they thrust her forward riding him. It felt incredible, and he wasn't sure how long he could continue like this.

Her eyes were closed, a look of intensity on her face, but he wanted to hear her cry out as she did when he used his fingers and his tongue on her, and so he slipped his hand between them. The positioning was a little awkward at first until she shifted her weight back to accommodate him, but then he began to apply pressure with his fingers. With satisfaction he heard his name tumble from her lips.

He came moaning her name just as her breaths began to grow heavy and her movements became shallow_**. **_She leant her weight forward, her hands on his chest, her breathing labored as he looked up at her with revered awe, before she collapsed her full weight on him. They lay together, their chests rising and falling as they caught their breath.

"I love you," he whispered in hushed adoration.

"I'll always love you, Peeta," she responded, and he thought he heard her voice catch on the last note. He let it pass, though, as the exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours had left his emotions raw as well. They curled up under the blankets, their bodies entwined, and Peeta did not fight the sleep that quickly claimed him.

…~…

Katniss did not fall asleep. She lay in the growing darkness watching Peeta until the light of the dying candle flickered out and it was too dark to see. She didn't want to forget a single thing about him: the way his lips parted in sleep, his gentle breath escaping between them; the dusting of freckles; the long, blond lashes that swept above his cheek bones; the blond curls that fell about his face, his hair too long and well in need of a trim. She pictured herself for the briefest of moments in their home, Peeta seated before a mirror as she cut his hair, it being her job as his wife to keep him respectable. She could envision two blond-haired children tugging at her knee as she did so, looking up at her with the bluest of eyes. But she cast the thought away just as quickly as it had come.

It would be better if she forgot, if she could forget everything that they had together, forget that he even existed.

The longer she laid there the quicker her heart began to race; she had to get out of here, she had to escape. But how far could they really get tonight? Peeta was exhausted, his legs hardly stable enough to carry him to the mouth of the cave and back, let alone along the cliff path and then on the road out of town. Even if they could get away, Gale knew of her family on the island, she couldn't leave them or the other islanders to the mercy of his wrath. Running away and leaving Peeta here in the cave to be found when Gale came was entirely out of the question – she would never run without him.

There had to be a way. She ran through all the stories again and again, everything she could remember from Peeta's book. When she started to feel the hysteria overwhelm her she stumbled outside.

She felt cold, but it was more than the wind that whipped around her. The rain had stopped but the sea and the wind had not calmed.

She couldn't think of any way to escape; her heart was racing, her breathing quick and shallow, and she felt like screaming into the wind but she knew that whatever happened, Peeta must not wake.

_Peeta_, she screamed his name in her head. _Save me, Peeta_, she silently begged, _as I did you. Please, Peeta, help me._ But there was nothing he could do. If he woke before Gale came, what would happen? She had seen firsthand the strength that Gale possessed, and she feared that the outcome of a confrontation between the two men would not end well for Peeta, as he would surely be hurt or worse.

No, she had to slip away silently. She had to go peacefully without a fight, and hope that Peeta would sleep through. But she pictured him in the morning when he woke and found her gone and she fell to her knees, her fingers digging into the sand as she fisted her hands.

She sobbed, the howl of the wind swallowing her low, keening wails, as she clutched her stomach. There could be no escape, she belonged to Gale now. She had made the deal, Gale had saved Peeta twice, and she saw no choice but to pay.

For the briefest of moments last night she had let herself be carried along with Peeta's fantasy of their escape. She wanted that life desperately. She belonged with Peeta, not Gale. It was the reason she had slept with Peeta, she wanted that moment to have been with him. Because she was not a fool, she knew what would be expected of her if she went to live with Gale as his mate. But he could not claim that first time – that would always belong to her and Peeta. Even if now in all other ways she would belong to Gale.

She retched and retched until her stomach was empty, and then she cried till she was too exhausted to cry anymore.

And when Gale found her on the cold, damp sand, she was numb and empty, and she took his hand obediently and let him lead her to the water.

…~…

Peeta wasn't sure how long he had been asleep. It was still dark in the cave and the first morning light was yet to break on the beach outside. He shivered and was conscious that he had woken because he was cold. There was no warm body pressed to him, as there had been when he had fallen asleep.

His first instinctive thought was that she was gone.

He raced to the cave's entrance. The storm had died down completely and all was calm.

Too calm. Too quiet.

He stood on the beach under the cloudless sky, searching the stretch of the sands by the light of the stars. Katniss was nowhere to be seen.

Could she have gone in search of food again? Was she swimming? Was Gale here?

He felt his body tense at the thought.

He cried her name aloud, over and over. He walked down to where the gentle waves broke on the shore, shouting out over the water, but there was no response.

Growing more frantic he ran back to the cave. Fumbling in the dark, he found her pack and her still damp clothing. Surely she would not have left without them, unless of course she was going somewhere they would not be needed.

He returned to the shoreline and sat wrapped in the blanket, staring desolately out to sea until the sun rose in the distance. He stayed and he waited, until the sun was ready to set again. And all the time the words of the song she had kept singing kept flowing unwanted in his head, as if she had been trying to tell him all along.

_All that I have is the ocean_

_The ocean is always my home_

_Lord, take me away_

_For I just cannot stay_

_Or I'll sink in my skin and my bones_

_The water sustains me without even trying_

_The water can't drown me, I'm done_

_With my dying_

_Now the land that I knew is a dream_

_And the line on the distance grows faint_

_Far wider than a river_

_The horizon a sliver_

_The artist has run out of paint_

_The water sustains me without even trying_

_The water can't drown me, I'm done_

_With my dying_

And with despair he knew that his suspicions had been right all along. She had made a deal with the selkie the night he was saved, and he understood that she was not coming back.

Katniss was gone.

* * *

**Notes:**

Song is the beautiful 'The Water' by Johnny Flynn and Laura Marling.

I have to admit to rather cheekily changing the lyrics a little to fit the story. Worth checking out the video on youtube as in my head Peeta's hair looks like Johnny's.

Massive thank you to Katnissinme for her amazing betaing and guidance, and to everyone who has left lovely supportive reviews.

Sorry I've been a bit slow updating this but I've been working on another story - Promises & Plans - but hopefully now that's finished I'll get back on track with this one, there can't be much more left to go!


	18. Chapter 18

Rowan had been awoken by the crash in the night; he had lain there listening closely as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was ready to get up if necessary and face whatever intruder had made the noise, but he heard nothing else and so convinced himself he'd imagined it and gone back to sleep.

With a heavy heart he opened up the bakery; without the usual companionship of his brother the kitchen was a lonely place in the early hours. He was not ashamed to admit that he had shed a fair few tears over the loss of his little brother, albeit behind closed doors into the comforting bosom of his loving wife.

Word from the island was that Peeta was missing, presumed dead. Most likely he succumbed to the fever on the beach and was then carried away by the waves during the night, taken by the sea.

The loss of his little brother had hit him hard, and he was not sure he would ever fully get over it. He hoped that Peeta had understood that in all those years of teasing him it had always been good-natured, he would never have intentionally hurt him. Yet he had been a coward just like his father, and had stood by, allowing his mother to belittle Peeta, to beat him down in spirit until he had doubted his own worth. Never speaking up to defend him as he could have.

Rowan had noticed the changes in Peeta since he had found Katniss, and he was pleased to witness the smile on his brother's face that he suspected was a result of daydreaming about her. But when Peeta had come to him asking for his support to escape the arranged marriage to Magdalena, he had failed him again and refused to back him up.

If Rowan had the chance to do it all again, he would make sure his actions were very different the next time around.

When he walked to the barn to fetch the sacks of flour he needed for the day, he was surprised to discover the door was already unlocked. His mind flashed back to the noise in the night and hoped to God that they had not been robbed whilst he had slept.

He opened the door cautiously and peered inside from the open doorway. He could see no obvious disturbance, but as he looked up the stairs he noticed that the door to Peeta's room was open.

When he'd been in the barn yesterday he was certain it had been closed. He raced up the stairs at a furious pace. If someone was in there, if they'd touched any of Peeta's things, he'd kill them. They would feel the full force of the anger he had been carrying around since the day he'd failed to rescue his brother.

Crashing through the door, he came to a sudden standstill as with shock he took in the sight before him.

The room was trashed, papers and drawings ripped and scattered across the floor, a table lamp (no doubt the source of the noise last night) lay in pieces against the wall it had been hurled at, furniture was overturned, bedsheets torn – it seemed that nothing had survived the intensity of the attack. And in the midst of it all, curled fetal-like on the floor, was Peeta, his eyes staring, unseeing.

Rowan rushed to him, dropping to his knees to cradle his brother.

"Peeta," he gave a choked sob, "I thought you were dead, brother."

But Peeta gave no answer.

"How is it that you're here, what happened? Are you alright?"

But still no response.

Rowan held Peeta up by his shoulders to force him to look him in the face. But although he was right in front of him it were as if Peeta did not see him there. Rowan shook his brother, "Peeta, what has happened?"

And finally Peeta raised his eyes to Rowan's and with a dead voice answered, "She's gone. She's gone and it's all my fault."

The days passed and Peeta did not get any better. Rowan and Orla had cleaned up his room for him. They stacked the ruined drawings in a pile, righted the furniture, and replaced the broken lamp and linen. But Peeta just sat looking out the window towards the sea.

Their mother came to see him, seemingly not at all surprised that he had once again overcome certain death to return from the sea. Her only concern was that the "useless boy" should be well again in time for the wedding, otherwise they would all be a laughing stock.

"That's it woman," Rowan had shouted loud enough that even Peeta had snapped out of his daze to look at him. "That's enough. This bakery would not survive without me, I as good as run it, and one day you will be dependent on me to look after you in your old age. And if you want me to be generous, I suggest you stop this talk of a wedding now."

His mother had started to protest with some cutting remark, but he had cut her short. "There will be no wedding. Peeta will marry when he chooses to marry and not before. There will always be a place and a job for him here for as long as he wants, and I'll hear no different."

When his mother started to argue again he had truly lost his temper and he had bellowed at her, "I said there will be no wedding!"

Later, when they were alone, Orla had confided that she never been so proud of her husband as in that moment when he finally stood up to his mother.

Peeta slowly came back to the land of the living, but he was not the same.

Rowan gradually managed to coax him back to the bakery. He tried to give him all the jobs he knew he liked best - decorating the specialty cakes, icing the biscuits and shaping the bread - but it seemed these tasks no longer gave Peeta any satisfaction.

Peeta was no longer angry or despondent but instead he seemed entirely empty and would still have long episodes where he appeared lost in his own thoughts.

Rowan would look in Peeta's room from time to time but he never found any sign that he had started to draw again. The ripped artwork sat in the same pile they had tidied weeks ago, and his paints were gathering dust.

Peeta no longer walked along the coast, as used to be his habit, and he didn't even come to church on Sunday. His time was entirely divided between the bakery and his room above the barn. Rowan had no idea what Peeta did in his room all those long hours, but he suspected that he just sat and stared out the window over the rooftops of the town toward the sea.

Rowan let it go, not wanting to bring up his worry over Peeta's behavior, unwilling to cause a setback now that he at least left his room and came to work every day. But he missed his brother, the friendly banter whilst they worked, the joy he used to take in his creations both in the kitchen and at the easel. Sometimes it felt like Peeta really had died on the island.

It was three months after he first found Peeta, when the leaves had already turned and were starting to fall from the trees and when the first promise of frost could be felt in the air, that Rowan finally reached his wits end.

He was tired from the extra workload that having to pick up Peeta's slack meant, and pregnant Orla tended to toss and turn at night, keeping him from sleep. Peeta was in the kitchen in his usual state of apathy, his mother was shouting from the shop front that they needed more bread, but it was not out of the oven yet. His father was out delivering orders and Rowan was in the middle of preparing the yeast. Peeta acted as if he had not heard his mother – in fact he probably wasn't even aware she'd said a word, caught in his own thoughts again. Rowan wiped his hands and turning to the oven noticed the tell-tale wisps of smoke escaping from beneath the oven door that told him the bread was burnt. Cursing, he grabbed the oven mitts and pulled open the door to pull out the tins. The bread was beyond saving; in rushing to grab the tins he burnt his arm and dropped the loaves to the floor.

"For Christ's sake, Peeta, would it really hurt you to do some fucking work around here? I know you're hurting and I know you lost her, but you are not the one who died. What was the point in your life being spared if you're just going to waste it living in this… in this damn trance?"

Peeta stared at his brother's outburst in astonishment, and whilst Rowan immediately felt sorry for his rant, he took some pride in the fact it had pulled Peeta from his stupor.

Rowan rushed to douse his burnt arm under the cold tap and when he turned back, Peeta had gone.

…~…

Peeta hadn't been back to the beach since the night Katniss left. Just the thought of his one place of refuge now brought him nothing but pain.

But Rowan's words to him had awoken a desire to return to the last place he had felt truly alive.

Rowan had been right – if Peeta continued to dwell in this living hell he had created for himself then what was the point of Katniss' sacrifice? For that had to be the only answer to her leaving, and whilst it made him sick to think that she had offered herself up in return for his safety, the alternative – that she had chosen to be with Gale of her own accord – was more than he could bear. Lately he had found it easier not to think at all, instead existing in a permanent state of ennui.

His feet had automatically followed the path to the beach, almost unaware of the journey, till he stood on the beach and found himself staring into the empty cave. But he could not make himself enter.

Instead he walked down to the water to stand on the rock where he had seen her emerge from the water that first day on the beach. He stood there for a long time, not knowing whether he had been expecting it to look different, but it was the same as it had ever been.

He wanted it to be different, for what had happened here to matter and not be forgotten, but the wind still chased the sea to the shore; the birds that circled and called above, dipping to the surface sporadically to gather fish, were ignorant to his heartache. The huge chunks of rock that had tumbled from the cliff and planted themselves in the beach centuries ago had not moved just because one night had changed his life forever. The sand had not all washed away when she had left. The sun still danced in broken reflections on the water – it would not alter its habits just for him. The beach stood as it had been before and would be for generations to come, the life of one man and one woman insignificant to its long history.

But he was not the same, everything around him felt different. The beauty that he used to paint with reverence no longer appealed to him. He found he hated the sight of the sea that had stolen her. The quiet solitude that he had welcomed for so long was now unwanted, the beach cold and empty without her here.

Finally he walked back to the cave, pausing to swallow hard before he entered. The sea had been in here recently and the sand was still wet, washing away all evidence of footprints or occupation. Only one blanket remained, tangled up in a soggy heap where it had snagged against the wall of the cave. Everything else had long since vanished.

He closed his eyes and could see her there. The way she had moved above him, the rhythm and the dance of her body, her expression, and he heard his name fall from her lips. She had loved him. She had said it. But she had left.

The emptiness that had overtaken him since that night of rage when he had returned home and taken his anger out on his room was gone. Instead he felt all the pain of his loss afresh. He dropped to his knees and screamed, tearing at his hair as the sound of his pain bounced from the walls, as if the cave responded and shared his agony.

He rocked back and forth, his angry sobs coming hard and fast, slamming his fists onto the sandy floor. At last, broken and spent, he hugged his middle as if it were the only thing holding him together. He looked around the cave. He was done here, he would not come back again. He was incapable of forgetting, but he didn't want to remember, either.

Wiping his eyes on his shirtsleeve he stood, pausing once in the entrance to look back at the cave that had once held so much joy but was now barren and empty, and left.

He strode across the beach at a determined pace, wanting to be away from the accursed place forever. So hell-bent was he on escaping the beach that when he reached the tunnel in the rocks he almost didn't look back, but something made him turn to take one last look at the shore.

His eyes travelled the length of the golden sands for one last time and then down to where the water gently lapped at the shoreline, roaming the monumental boulders wedged in the sand, the great slab that stretched out into the water like a natural jetty.

And there at the end of the rocks, he saw a vision of that first day. She emerged, raising herself up on the flat surface, the water coursing from her to pool at her feet, the sunlight catching on the moisture that still clung to her body.

She tossed her hair and turned to look him, no dream, no wishful hallucination. Not the figment of his tortured mind that haunted him during wake and sleep, a nightmare reminder of all that he had lost.

This time, she was real.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who left reviews for the last chapter they are alway greatly appreciated. I hope to have the next chapter for Sealskin and also for Promises & Plans up fairly soon, I'm just obsessing about a couple of sentences!

Thank you to Katnissinme for all her help betaing this.


	19. Chapter 19

In his arrogance, Gale didn't seem to doubt for one moment that she would soon forget the human boy.

The first night he had brought her to the island far out to sea, untouched by man, where no ship had set anchor, and had lain her down on the bed of furs and fleece; she had turned away from his kisses. He had not forced her – instead he had told her to sleep, to rest, and that in the morning everything would seem brighter.

"You'll see," Gale had said, "that this life is what is best for you. You did not belong there with him, tied to the land as you were. In time, you'll come to realise that _this_," and she felt he meant himself as much as life amongst the selkies, "is what you really desire. I will give you time, but my patience is not without limit."

What Gale could not understand was that there would be no brighter tomorrows now. Katniss felt she were as lost as if she had been swallowed up by the very depths of the sea itself. Trapped and bound in the selkie's strong hold, with only herself to blame having given herself freely to his possession. There could be no escape, no return to Peeta, nor the hopes she had harboured of a life with him. And now that he was lost to her forever, the light in her had been extinguished and she floundered in the darkness that consumed her.

When she awoke the first day, she had lain immobile, tears stinging at her eyes at the remembrance of all that had passed the day and night before. She had turned to Gale who slept beside her beneath the covers and had tried not to think of the warm body of another who had been pressed to her less than a day ago.

She had begged Gale to let her go to the island to find news of her mother and sister and whether they still lived. But Gale had shaken his head, declining her request; the flotilla still blocked the waters around the island he had said, and he could not take the risk of them venturing out whilst it remained.

But she guessed correctly that Gale did not trust her enough to keep her promise to turn her back on her old life, that he suspected if he allowed her to go back onto land she would try to escape returning to the water.

Expecting her attempted escape at any moment, she felt Gale's watchful eyes on her at all times, never letting her stray far from him. She felt like a dog on a short leash kept constantly at her master's side. But she had to be thankful that if he were indeed to be her master, at least whilst his patience remained, he was not a cruel one.

Though a fight witnessed during her early days reminded her that she was right to be cautious of him. Another of the males had said something to Gale with a nod in her direction. They stood too far away for her to hear, but whatever the comment had been, Gale rounded on him. It was not a one-sided fight by any means – the other male had a good few pounds on him – but Gale was agile and able to dodge the other's blows until he finally gained the upper hand. The other selkie sloped off to the water like a dog with his tail between his legs, taking his seal form again and disappearing beneath the waves. The fight would have scared her for nothing more than the sheer force of the men's punches, but more frightening was the anger of both males. It was like watching two wild animals battling for dominance, neither willing to back down until they had no choice and their life depended on it. It had shown her that she had been right to have avoided a confrontation between Peeta and Gale. Peeta would not have stood a chance.

After that, they mostly stayed away from the main group, and Katniss was not sorry for the solitary existence. She was not a great conversationalist at the best of times, and in her current frame of mind she was glad to be left to herself.

Gale took her swimming and showed her the islands far out to sea that were only visible at low tides, shoals of fish that they would chase, and carcasses of wrecked ships that lined the rocky coasts, long forgotten on the sea bed.

In those moments of exploration when she swam with him, she found it easier to forget her human self, to forget everything that had gone before and to allow her mind to become as silent as the water. There was no need for voices or thoughts in the depths, here all relied on instinct and nature.

And when one day she found Gale looking at her with admiring eyes, not ones of suspicion, she realized she had been smiling. The weight of the guilt immediately wiped the smile from her face, and she felt the longing for Peeta and her family replace any happiness that the freedom of her swim had given her. And then, instead of admiration, she saw that Gale's eyes were full of disappointment.

She begged him again that night to take her to the island and to her family home. She reasoned with him that she could never move on and forget if she did not know whether they had lived or died. He said that he would think on it, and the fact that he had not said no filled her with a feeling of hope that she had thought she'd lost forever.

She wasn't sure how many more days passed before he took her to the island. They found her old home in the moonlight, its door ajar and the house deserted. Someone had helped themselves to anything of value, but mementoes of no worth but for the memories they held for the owner had been left behind, letting her know that whoever had taken the other items had not been her sister or her mother.

They went to the cemetery and there she found what she feared, but which deep down she had known all along she would find there.

Two make-shift crosses of wood, names etched into them, stood side by side. One for her mother and one for Primrose. No dates upon them, nothing to mark how many years they had walked this earth. No testament to how they had lived, whether they had been beloved by sisters or daughters, whether they would join their husbands in ever-lasting love in the next life. Nothing but their names.

With anguish she grieved for her little sister who would never get to grow old, marry a man she loved or become the loving mother she would have unquestionably been_**.**_ Katniss wondered if Primrose had even experienced her first kiss, and whether any boy had stood at her funeral and shed a tear for her passing. Had there been a funeral, any words said over their graves, or had they just been interred with the other victims of the fever, quickly and without ceremony? Had their mother nursed Primrose to the end, or had it been the other way round? Had Primrose been left with the burden of watching their mother die first? Katniss was crippled with the pain of her guilt at failing to be there for them when they had needed her most.

She sobbed into the soil until she could cry no more, and then Gale had picked up her broken body and carried her back into the dark waters of the ocean.

She didn't know or care how long she lay in the darkness of her despair. But she begged for some way for it to end. If the fever had struck her then she would not have fought death but welcomed its relief. She hovered in a half-life, not dead, but without the desire to live either.

She wanted an escape from it all, a way to be free from the truth that she had lost everyone she had ever loved. The arms she so desperately wanted to comfort her were not there, and that thought alone was enough to crush her.

So one night, when she felt Gale's warm arms around her, she almost forgot where she was and who it was that held her. And then she thought of those times that Gale had kissed her, when her passion for him had been all consuming, leaving no room for any other thoughts or feelings. She knew she wanted to feel that again, the hope that if she looked into his eyes she would be able to lose herself completely, that if she allowed it and did not fight it, he could make her forget not just everyone and everything she had lost, but everyone and everything that had made her human.

And it worked, if only fleetingly. The same fire she had felt when she had kissed him before coursed through her veins, chasing out the agony and despair. The dark pools of his eyes held her gaze and she could see only him, not the visions of her sick and dying sister. His mouth moved forcefully on hers and she wanted only him, she did not let any other thoughts invade that would prevent her from allowing him to dominate her completely. Her mind became a blank, overwhelmed by the sensation and her physical need for him.

But when Gale's body lay beside her heavy with sleep, and the last embers of euphoria dwindled, she despised herself, disgusted by what she had become. Even if it were possible she could never go back now. The girl that Peeta had loved did not exist anymore. She had whored herself with Gale, given herself to him freely, desperate to let all her senses be filled with him.

And so it became a dependency, always chasing after the feeling that she craved. The serenity and the freedom she experienced as she swam during the day, and the ability to lose herself when she was with Gale at night, allowed her to hold at bay the reality of her thoughts. More and more she found she wanted to forget her humanity and the pain that was associated with that life, but she hated the creature she had become in order to do so.

She came to understand a little more of how Gale could have asked what he had of her, to come with him and sacrifice her life on the land. Because selkie life was one of impulse and instinct, of natural desires. To take what you wanted with little thought of how it affected others, because to thrive you must think only of your own survival. Gale had wanted her and so he had taken her from his natural rival, as any other creature in the wild would.

And it was this life, based on instincts and not on conscious thoughts, that she wanted to lose herself in. And day by day she succeeded for the most part, but at night she could not subdue the grief and longing, the pain and self-loathing that set in, and it was these that had her crawling back into Gale's arms long before the early morning sun had risen, her mind begging her body for a way to forget.

Because Gale, in his arrogance, had been wrong; she could not forget the human boy, no matter how desperately she tried.

So when the day finally came that Gale believed she would no longer attempt to escape, the day when he trusted her enough to swim on her own and return to him, Katniss found herself swimming toward the beach without a thought to the direction she took. She simply followed the currents that lead her back there, an innate sense pulling her in that direction, as if her return to that spot was inevitable and there had never been a choice in the matter.

She raised herself from the water to stand on the rock, reliving a moment from another lifetime. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as her natural instincts of survival, heightened of late by her time in the sea, sensed immediately she was not alone. Turning quickly she saw him standing at the entrance to the beach, half in shade in the mouth of the tunnel. But the look of disbelief on his face was still clear as she gasped his name in a shocked whisper.

"Peeta!"

* * *

**Notes:**

I feel like I should apologise for this chapter, I know it's not exactly the happy reunion chapter that some of you were hoping for after yesterday's update, but this is really the second part of yesterday's chapter bringing Katniss up to the same point in time.

So sorry that the last chapters have been pretty miserable but hang in there we're only about 2 or 3 chapters from the end (hooray!) and it can't all be doom and gloom from now on (or can it?).

Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and thank you to Katnissinme for her patience whilst I obsessed over one paragraph!


	20. Chapter 20

_Okay, there's a strong possibility that some of you __(yes that means you anonymous guest!)_ are going to hate the next two chapters ...

* * *

Peeta stood at the mouth of the tunnel; he hadn't moved an inch, frozen in place as if his body had been turned to stone by the sight of her.

Katniss could not count the number of nights she had gone to sleep with his face the last image in her mind, or the nights when sleep had escaped her and she had lain awake torturing herself with dreams of their last night together.

All those unending hours she had longed for him: the times when she would have given anything just to see him again, if only for a moment; to have heard her name on his lips; for him somehow to miraculously kiss away all the horrors, to wash away all that had passed since she had seen him last, and make her whole again.

But now her wish had been fulfilled. Yet she was as immobile as he, frozen like a rabbit caught in the eyes of its predator, frightened of making the wrong move.

In her dreams she would run to him and Peeta would receive her with open arms. But now, faced with the reality of him actually seeing her, she doubted herself. When he learned of what she had done, what she had become, how would he still be able to love her? Better, then, that she remain an idealistic memory of all the joy they had had together than he learn the abhorrent truth of the creature she now was. She couldn't bear for the last memory she would hold of him to be his eyes full of pain and disgust when he discovered the true nature of her existence.

She turned to flee, poised to dive, but was frozen again by the urgency of his voice as he cried out begging her, "Katniss, please don't go!"

Looking up she saw him making his way across the sand as fast as he could. He used his stick and she noticed he was hobbling, his leg bothering him as it did when he was tired. And it dawned on her that she might not be the only one who had trouble sleeping at night. Did he lie awake at night thinking of her as she dreamt of him?

She wanted to go to him, but she was unable to move until he reached her. His brow was furrowed, lined with confusion and concern, approaching her slowly and cautiously. It reminded her of the way one would edge towards a wounded animal, afraid it would either take flight or attack.

"Katniss?" His voice was soft and questioning. As he took the last step toward her she flung herself into his arms, colliding with the solid safety of his chest. It was selfish to take the comfort he offered, when she knew she was poised once again to bring him nothing but pain, but she couldn't stop herself. She sobbed, clinging to him as he held her, lowering them both to their knees.

He lifted her face to him, kissing her, his face like hers, wet with tears.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he managed in a choked voice.

He kissed her again and she kissed him back, her sobs taking her breath between kisses as his hands, firm on her back, held her to him. They clung to each other, as if afraid the other were about to disappear.

Feeling her shiver in the autumn breeze he stripped off his jacket and she let him wrap it about her, not bothering to slip her arms through the sleeves, before he wrapped his arms protectively around her again.

Peeta wore a look of concern again as he finally asked, "That night you went with Gale, didn't you? You made a deal in return for saving me." She nodded. His look of concern was replaced by emotions she was all too familiar with, those of pain and guilt. "Are you alright, I mean…did he…did he hurt you?" He faltered over his words, and she understood exactly what he was asking her.

She shook her head, for it was true. Gale had never forced her. She had been a willing partner in every act they had committed together.

She saw the look of relief on his face and she couldn't look him in the eye any more. Instead, she let her head rest on his shoulder as he tightened his arms around her. She breathed in his scent, the familiar smells of the bakery mixed with something that was purely him. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes; she didn't want to forget it.

"But how did you get away? How did you manage to escape from him?" She opened her mouth, not sure how to correct his misunderstanding. But Peeta continued, not waiting for her answer. She could see his mind racing ahead as he rapidly spoke.

"We need to get out of here, quickly," Peeta said, "before he notices you're missing. We were stupid to wait here as long as we have. The more distance we put between ourselves and the sea the better."

Peeta pushed himself up to standing, reaching out his hand to pull her up. Mutely she took it and let him help her to her feet. He turned, striding back toward the beach, making plans out loud as he did.

"I'm not sure Rowan will believe the full story, but if we explain you're in danger and that we need to leave immediately I'm sure he'll give us the money for the fare and we'll get tickets on the first train out of town."

He turned back to her, a baffled look on his face when he discovered she was not following, but instead still stood on the same spot.

"Katniss?" he looked at her bewildered, "aren't you coming?"

She couldn't speak. She closed her eyes as she shook her head. How could she tell him? Why had she stayed? She should have fled when she had the chance. But she'd been too selfish, she had ached for him for so long, yearned for his touch to console her, that she had taken the opportunity even though she knew how much the truth was going to hurt him.

How was she going to tell him the news that she had learned herself only a couple of days ago?

_She and Gale had paid a rare visit to the rest of the colony, something they had avoided since the fight. Still an object of intrigue for the rest of the community, she hated the stares she received: sometimes of curiosity and sometimes, particularly from some of the other females, of something that looked almost like pity. _

_She watched the females who tended to sit apart from the men; they would gather in groups with their young. Whilst romantic love appeared less important than physical attraction to the selkies, it was clear when watching the mothers that a truly genuine maternal love existed for their children. And she thought about the stories of their children who had been killed, mistaken as seal pups, and the agony of the mothers, for which retribution was wrought upon the human settlements by the selkie men. _

_Katniss had sat apart from the others, watching the group of females, whilst Gale had spoken with some of the men. When he rejoined her, one of the few elderly selkies, a female with hair as white as snow, with wisps as fine as silk that floated on the wind, bid them to approach her. _

_Katniss followed Gale, the old selkie gesturing them to come closer and patting the ground beside her. When they sat before her, she grinned at them, accentuating the deep lines that creased the skin around her eyes. Wordlessly she gathered a small pile of what looked like teeth from the rock beside her, shaking them like dice in her hand. _

_Katniss looked to Gale for an explanation, and he answered her questioning eyes. "Magnhildr sees things. She can foretell what is to come and what will be."_

_Katniss looked back to the old woman as she tossed the contents of her hand onto the hard ground with a clatter. She saw that what she had mistaken for teeth were in fact shaped pieces of bone, each with a small, strange, linear carving etched into its face. _

_The old lady ran her tongue over her teeth with an uncomfortable sucking noise, which made Katniss draw back a little. The old lady pushed the pieces about with one finger, before moving three pieces forward towards Gale and Katniss. _

_Magnhildr's yellowing fingernail tapped on the first piece of bone. "She," she looked up to stare deeply into Katniss' eyes, "has accepted selkie life in more ways than she would have ever thought possible."_

_One long finger pointed at the second piece, and then she stretched out her hand to rest on Katniss' belly, who instinctively recoiled from her touch. "She has lain with you for but a few months, but already she is with child."_

_Then finally pushing the remaining piece towards Gale, Magnhildr said, "And when she is gone she will break the heart you never knew you had."_

_And then with a nod Magnhildr gathered up the pieces again. _

"_But, what do you mean? How can you know this?" Katniss gasped in shock._

_The old lady waved Katniss' questions away as she would an irritating gnat. "I know only what the runes tell me and no more."_

_Gale stood, helping Katniss to her feet, and she realized she needed his support as she stood on unsteady legs. Her eyes went again to the group of females. Most of those on the land were in their human form, but a few lying on the rocks half in and half out of the water were in their animal states. One mother was suckling a seal pup. Katniss' felt the grip of terror as the thought hit her that her child would be more selkie than herself, with a mother and a father who both bore the genes. What if her child could take both forms? If she were to give birth to a creature that came forth not as a human child to take its first cry as it entered the world, but as a seal? An unnatural abomination in God's eyes, her father would have called it. Could she love such a creature, such a child that would tie her to this world of selkies forever? And with a shiver she considered Magnhildr's final prediction. Had she alluded to the fact that this pregnancy or the birth itself would be more than she could physically bear, and be the cause of her death? _

_Gale helped her back to the privacy of the cave where they slept at night. And when he asked if she were alright, she found herself confiding in him her fear that the child may take on selkie form. She did not tell him that this possibility filled her with horror. _

_He nodded, considering the idea. "It is entirely possible," he conceded. "You are only half selkie and yet our ways are still strong in you. This child would be more selkie than yourself, so there is every likelihood that it could take both forms."_

"_The…our child will need to grow up within the colony," she said, thinking out loud. "I could never teach it all it needs to know without your help."_

_Gale nodded thoughtfully and she knew he had reached the same conclusion. That pregnant with his child, there was no point in her escaping; she and the child needed him and the others in the colony. She would not leave now. _

_The next day, when Gale said he was going to find food, she had made to go with him. But she had noticed he carried his pelt over his arm and he explained he was going to swim as a seal. Gale had spent almost all of his time since she arrived in human form, and she wondered if he felt restricted, and whether it explained his increasingly dark mood over the last few weeks. _

_She had nodded and he had left her alone for a long morning in the cave with her thoughts and fears. _

_When he had returned, his mood had been greatly improved and they had feasted on lobster that he had brought back with him. He built her a fire from dried seaweed and driftwood that lasted long into the evening. It had not occurred to her until she lay beside him, listening to his steady breath of sleep, that Gale was pleased. She had been so preoccupied in her distress that she had not stopped to think that he had taken the news of her pregnancy differently. When she had quizzed him further about what Magnhildr had said, he had told her that it was unusual for females to become pregnant so quickly. He conceded that it may be that her make-up as half-human had led to her getting pregnant faster than normal, but she concluded that he was also incredibly proud of his ability to father a child so soon. _

_The next day when he had gone swimming he had unexpectedly suggested that she go for a swim whilst he was away. She had looked at him with surprise, hardly believing she had heard him correctly. But Gale had just smiled at her and told her to follow the currents if she got lost – they would guide her home. And she had done as he had instructed, but it hadn't been to the island it had returned her, but to the beach, their beach. _

"Katniss, what is it? What's the matter?" Peeta's concern pulled her from her thoughts.

She swallowed. "Peeta," his name sounded pained and twisted as it escaped her lips, "I'm pregnant."

His reaction was not what she had been expecting. He rushed back to her and pulled her into his arms. "It's alright, Katniss. I'll look after you. We'll be alright." And then, holding her at arms length, he smiled at her with loving eyes and with happy disbelief said, "We're going to have a baby?"

She went cold. She had not considered that he would jump to that conclusion. It could not be his, they had shared themselves with each other only that once, whilst she had lain with Gale more times than she wished to recall. There was no doubt that the odds were in favour of Gale being the father, even without Magnhildr's prediction.

She felt sick as she spoke again. "I can't come with you, Peeta. I didn't escape, Gale let me go because he knew I'd return."

"I don't understand."

"He knew I'd come back because he knows I'm having his child."

Peeta staggered backwards a step as if he'd been winded. "I…I don't understand, Katniss."

"The baby, it's …"

"But you said… you said that he hadn't," he shook his head, trying to understand, "that you hadn't."

"I said that he hadn't hurt me." She felt guilt over her earlier discrepancy – she had been deceitful in her omission. "Not that we hadn't…," she couldn't finish her own sentence.

"You…with him? And now you're choosing him over us, over me?" He accused in hurt disbelief.

"It's not like that, Peeta" she sobbed. "I never thought I would be free again, that I would ever get to see you again."

"You didn't wait very long, did you? What a fool I've been to pine over you these last few months, thinking, worrying, trying not to imagine the ways you were suffering. I've hardly been able to function! My grief at losing you all but swallowed me whole. And all this time you've been indulging yourself with him! How you both must have laughed at me."

"No, please Peeta, it wasn't like that at all! When I found out that Primrose and my mother had died I just, I needed to forget, I just…I wanted…," Her tears stopped her words as she hugged her arms around herself, rocking slightly, as she implored. "Please Peeta, please understand."

"And what if I did? If I still said run away with me? That I would accept the child as my own. It wouldn't change anything, would it? You're still going back to him, aren't you? You're still choosing him over me."

"No! No I'm not. I'm choosing my child. I can't leave, I don't know whether the baby will be a full selkie. If it is, I can't take it away from that world, it would never survive in ours! I have to do what's best for my child. What sort of mother would I be if I selfishly chose what I wanted, knowing that it would be detrimental for my child? But if I could choose, then you have to know that it would be you."

He pulled her into his arms and held her as her hands clung to his shoulders. She wanted to stand like that forever, but she knew she had to let him go. Pulling back she looked at his tear stained face.

"Peeta, you have to let me go. I want a full and happy life for you. Please don't pine for me. I'll be alright. I want you to forget me."

"But what if I don't want to forget?"

"You have to, you have to move on and keep living. Go to the capitol, find work in one of those patisseries that you spoke of. Don't waste your life and your talent trapped here in this small town. Please, I beg you, don't throw your life away on memories of me."

"Katniss…"

"Please, Peeta, promise me. Promise you'll forget me."

His eyes were screwed shut, his face distorted with tears as he choked out his promise to forget.

She shrugged her arms out of his jacket and dived into the water before he had a chance to open his eyes again. But when she surfaced and took a look back at the rocks she saw him, fallen to his knees, clutching the jacket as he silently sobbed into it.

She ducked beneath the waves again, screaming out into the waters with all the agony that accompanied her heart being ripped from her breast and left bleeding on the rocks where Peeta knelt.

* * *

**Strange but interesting facts about seals I've discovered whilst writing this (which always in some weird coincidence seem to support something I've just written):**

The gestation period for gray seals is 11.5 months, which includes a 3 month delay in implantation of the fertilized egg. Mating can take place on land or in water and pregnancy lasts for 11.5 months, there being a period of 3.5 months when the fertilised embryo does not attach to the wall of the uterus and its development is arrested ("delayed implantation"). As a result, pups are born at the same time each year. – **The reason that Magnhildr was surprised Katniss' pregnancy was so far developed?**

Land breeding gray seals are often "polygynous"; one male potentially mates with up to 10 females in a given breeding season. Gray seals gather in large groups to mate, with males competing with each other for access to females. – **Was this what spurred the fight with Gale and the other male?**


	21. Chapter 21

It had been a long hard winter, with the snow and freezing fogs lasting long into early March. People of the district were hard pressed to recall such a harsh winter in recent times, and the fishermen told tales of finding the sea frozen in their northernmost fishing grounds, huge rafts of ice floating in the water, and how they did not dare to venture too far north for fear of damaging their ships.

The cruel winter crept into Peeta's bones, not to numb him as before, but to turn him as hard and unfeeling as the ice that clung to everything around him. He didn't return to the way he had been before that day on the beach – he no longer dwelled in a trance-like existence – instead he got on with life. He went about his daily tasks at the bakery completing them with such efficiency that even his mother could not complain, not that he would have cared if she did. He was immune to her biting remarks these days. Devoid of emotion as he was, she could no longer hurt him. He had cut out his heart and packed it in ice, preserving it in a state of inertia. He had no need for it now.

He worked hard all day, and at night he spent his wages in the ale house before stumbling back to his room, the ale subduing any dreams that threatened his sleep. There were girls at the taverns, easy girls, ones looking for a bit of fun and ones who'd take a turn round the back of the tavern for a few coins. And that suited him fine. He didn't want anything more, he certainly wasn't looking to fall in love. He chose the girls with the blondest hair, the most buxom and curvaceous figures and he would keep his eyes on them as, down on their knees, they took him in between their ruby lips. And he kept his hands on their full breasts as he thrust into them against the wall so that there could be no fear of him closing his eyes and letting himself slip for even one second into mistaking them for someone else. In the morning he would rise with a groggy head to repeat the routine all over again.

Magdalena was wed before the year ended. The dissolution of their engagement did not bring her the hoped for union with her true love. Instead she was married to another, a man with a family who could afford to pay her father handsomely for the privilege of buying into the family business. The arrangement allowed her father to retire in relative luxury with no worries about financing his old age, buying a new little cottage to live in and taking a young, pretty little wife to look after him in later years. Peeta had to stand in church and watch the farce, his mother fuming by his side at the missed opportunity of what could have been his. The congregation looked on at the groom who was too afraid to lift his new wife's veil in case the people gathered there saw her red blotched face and the evidence of her tears. For Peeta it represented just another example how falling in love was a futile exercise. In the end it did not bring you happiness, but was just another vehicle for pain and sorrow. It was better to live as he did, with his heart locked away, preserved in ice, pretending that he had succeeded in forgetting that she had ever existed.

…~…

If Gale had noticed that something was wrong when she returned to him, he had not said it. And she used the excuse of feeling unwell because of the baby for as long as she could. But when he had seen that she was on the verge of slipping back into her black depression he had announced that they were going north to search for her father.

They swam for weeks amongst the frozen boulders that floated in the frigid ocean waters. Gale had been right when he had predicted she would not feel the cold if she were in the water. But it seemed strange not to set foot on solid ground for so long. Gale had no difficulty sleeping in the water, but she found it difficult unless they were in the shallows where she could lie still submerged but without fear of drowning. And so she took to sleeping in his arms, wrapped around him. And she found she trusted him to care for her and keep her from harm as she slept.

It took them weeks to find the colony of the north nestled amongst the frozen floes where the land of volcanoes rose out of the ice. These selkie were wary of them and their intentions, and when they did agree to speak with them they could find none who admitted to taking a human lover on the island of her family home.

One night she found herself watching the most wondrous lights in the sky that stretched above their heads, as if thrown out across the dark night by mischievous angels who sought to tease the humans below with a tantalizing glimpse of the heavens. The bewitched and confused were then unable to tear their eyes away from the ever-changing tapestry of colours and swirling light. In that moment she did not care about the fruitless nature of their quest for her father, for although it had not borne the answers she had hoped for, their journey had shown her this breathtaking sight. Somehow it restored a hope in her, that all in the world could not be dark and ugly if something as beautiful as this could exist. And for the first time since she left the land she found herself singing, her voice carrying across the still waters.

She found Gale watching her in awe and she felt herself blush under his gaze. And when they returned to the secluded spot in the shallows that night, when his gaze found her and held her again, she found she welcomed his attentions for another reason than simply to forget. That whilst she could never love him as she had Peeta, she knew that her co-existence with Gale was growing to be more than one of just survival. As he knelt behind her in the shallows, one hand upon her breast, the other resting on the growing swell of her stomach, she pushed herself back against him, wanting him. As he entered her, she moaned his name, truly conscious for the first time that it was him she was with. And when she heard his growl of satisfaction and felt his hands move to her hips as he thrust into her with increasing force, she knew he, too, had recognised the significance of the moment.

When they returned to the northern colony the next morning to bid their farewells before they began their long journey home, one of the males pulled them aside and confessed.

"I did take a human lover once, a beautiful thing she was, with hair like spun gold and lips so pink and innocent I had to know how they would taste. And so I sang for her, the way I heard you sing last night, and she came to me pulled by a desire she never even knew she harboured. And her kisses were as tender as I imagined, her hair like silk that ran between my fingers, and her creamy skin was soft and warm beneath me. I believe I am your father, though I never wished to be such. I have wives and children of my own here, and I do not need another child. But if you have a need to know from where you came, then after hearing you last night I cannot deny that I know you to be my own. But when I see you, child, I cannot but think that this is not the life for you. You have but one skin and one body and that was made for the land. And your eyes, not unlike my own I'll admit, have an emptiness that makes me sad to wonder what it was that you lost to make them so."

The selkie male had made it clear after his speech that he would not accept her as his daughter before the others in the colony, although he did not wish her any ill. But he did not want to cause trouble within his own family with such news.

On their long journey home, Katniss had plenty of time to think over what the selkie had said. She believed him that he had been the one who had entranced her mother and that her mother had given herself to him despite her love for another. But Katniss also decided that did not make him her father in anything but the act. The man who had chosen to raise her, to love her as his own and call her daughter, was the man she would always consider to be her true father.

In the months after they returned to their own colony, she grew heavy and weary, swimming less and less each day, instead snuggling deep under the covers of the furs and fleeces and sunning her growing body in what little spring sunshine there was. Gale would venture out each day to bring her food, pandering to whatever she craved to eat that day.

But as the day approached he stayed closer to home, assuring her that if she called out for him he would be close enough to hear her.

Magnhildrknew the day had come before they did themselves. She appeared in the morning, telling them she had seen she would be needed, and before the evening came she had delivered a child to them, screaming as it entered the world in its naked human form. When Magnhildrplaced it to Katniss' chest any fears that she could not love her baby were forgotten as she looked down in wonder at her child suckling at her breast. She could not imagine loving anything as much.

Gale, who had waited outside the cave at Magnhildr's insistence that it was woman's work, appeared at the entrance. "It's a boy," Magnhildrtold him. Katniss smiled at his look of pure pride. "I have a son," he said with satisfaction.

"No," Magnhildrsaid with a shake of her head.

"What?" he exclaimed, as both Katniss' and Gale's gazes were ripped from the other's and their eyes flew to the old woman. "But you said…"

"It is a boy, but it is not one of our kind."

"It's human?!" He directed his dark, vicious glare at the child and Katniss wrapped her hands protectively around her son's still damp locks, terrified of what Gale would do. "Did you know about this?" He looked between the two women. Katniss shook her head, frightened and as shocked by the revelation as he was, but Magnhildrnodded. "I told you that she had been with you only a few months but was already with child. You chose to listen to your arrogant pride to interpret the runes, ready to believe that you had fathered a child quicker than is normal for our kind, rather than listen to what they had really told you, which was that she was already with child before you took her as your mate."

"You old hag, you told me no such thing!" Gale raised his hand to the old woman, but she did not shrink back or cower from him, and with a curse he dropped his hand, slamming his fist into his thigh in anger.

He turned away to face out of the cave, his back to them, and Katniss watched his shoulders rise and fall with heavy breaths, the muscles of his back tensing while his hands remained balled in fists.

"I want him gone," he declared turning back to face her. "Take him, now. Get him out of here or I'll take care of him myself." His voice was angry, but his eyes glistened with sadness.

"But Gale, I can't," she pleaded. "Where do you expect me to take him?"

"Why should I care, as long as he's gone? Take him to his father, let him take care of his son."

"Gale," said Magnhildr tried to reason, "the girl can't move now, she needs to rest."

"You have until the morning," he conceded coldly, "and if I return to find him still here then I'll cast him out into the waters myself."

Gale stormed from the cave and Magnhildr followed, leaving Katniss alone with her son. Her head was spinning with the events, Gale's demands, the fear that she would lose her son, but she was so weary. The long labour had taken everything she'd had and she couldn't keep her eyes from closing no matter how much she tried to fight it.

As she drifted off to sleep, her son tucked beside her, she dreamt that she heard Gale and Magnhildr'sdiscussion.

"Are you sure you want to ask this of her?" the old woman asked him. "She won't be able to leave that child. If you ask her to go, she will not return."

"I know."

* * *

**Notes**:

So sorry Peeta has gone a bit Hamish and Katniss has got Stockholm syndrome, not quite sure how that snuck into the story really it was never in the original plan!

'Land of volcanoes in the frozen sea' is Iceland. I've always pictured this story happening in a faery tale version of the Orkney Islands in North Scotland. And its pretty much a straight line from there to Iceland.

Yet another seal fact:Harbor seals sleep on land or in the water. In the water they sleep at the surface and often assume a posture known as bottling - their entire bodies remain submerged with just their heads exposed. This enables them to breathe when necessary. - **And this is why Gale is able to sleep so easily in the water.**

**And only one more chapter to go!**


	22. Chapter 22

The moonlight wavered on the puddles, its reflection broken by the steady rhythm of the rain. Katniss stood shivering before the heavy wooden door, her breath clearly visible in the night air and her naked body dotted with goose-pimples, trembling with combined cold and anxiety. The rags of an old sail she had found down by the docks were her only protection from the elements.

Magnhildr had woken her after what felt like only a matter of moments, but as the old woman had shaken her awake she'd told her with urgency that she needed to get up and get moving if she wanted to make it to land and move through the town undetected whilst the townspeople slept.

Magnhildrhad carried with her a wicker basket of human origin that she had acquired from somewhere. She had helped Katniss to line the basket with skins and fleeces in hopes of keeping the baby dry. And once the child was safely tucked beneath the covers, Magnhildr had helped her to swim the distance to the mainland.

The elderly selkie had not come ashore with Katniss, but had stayed some distance out to sea, so it was alone and naked, with only the ragged cloth for modesty, that Katniss had crept through the town, clinging to the shadows and hiding in doorways. But she met no one; the streets were silent and empty, some hours still to go till the town awoke.

The cold, hard, man-made ground felt unnatural beneath her feet as she stood at Peeta's door remembering a previous night, a lifetime ago, when once before she had apprehensively stood there. The night she'd summoned her courage to throw stones at Peeta's window, the night she had dared to kiss him, the same night that she had first met Gale – and her fate had been changed forever.

As she had swum toward the mainland with Magnhildr, she had repeatedly run through her options in her head. She could go to Annie or Jo and beg their help. Although sure to be confused, they would not turn her away. But how long could they help her? The boarding house owner would not want a mother and a newborn baby disturbing the paying guests. Katniss could not pay for board. Jo and Annie barely scraped by on their wages, they could not spare enough for her keep. Perhaps she could return to the island and ask Sae to take her in, but again the old woman, even if she had survived the fever, made a meager living out of mending fishing nets, she could not be expected to feed another mouth. Katniss had no money to her name, and with a baby in tow, little hope of finding work. What life could she offer her son, if it meant ending up on the street?

She knew her son's only hope was his father. She couldn't expect Peeta to want to help her, but she prayed that when he saw the baby he would understand and show pity and take him in. She was not brazen enough to stand before him and ask him to help her. She supposed she could beg for his help, but after all that she had put him through, and the shame of what she had become, she could not bring herself to face him.

It pierced Katniss' heart to know that her son's best hope of survival was without her. But she also knew that she would sacrifice anything for him, even it meant giving him up. And so it was to Peeta's door that she crept.

Katniss banged and banged on the barn door, but there was no answer. She dropped to the ground, in part from exhaustion, in part from despair, as with a heavy heart she realized that Peeta had taken her advice. He was no longer there. He had done as she had begged and gone to the capitol and she did not blame him. She had told him not to wait, to forget her and move on. Despite her desperate disappointment, she hoped that he was happy. Peeta deserved to be happy, he deserved better than her. She had brought him nothing but hurt, she wasn't worthy of his love.

As Katniss bent to pick up the basket, she heard a grumble and heavy footfalls on the stairs on the other side of the door. Scrabbling to her feet she jumped back into the shadows as the door opened.

She clutched at her chest as she saw Peeta in the doorway. She hardly recognized him, his hair shaggy and unkempt, his face unshaven and his clothes crumpled, presumably from a night sleeping in them. Groaning and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm, he looked about for whoever had caused the disturbance. He took a step and she gasped, almost giving away her hiding place, as he barely missed standing on the basket, kicking the edge of it instead.

She saw Peeta look down at what had caught his foot, and saw his forehead lined with confusion. Bending down he picked up the basket, almost losing his footing, clearly not expecting the weight of its contents.

Pulling back the covers she knew exactly what met his eyes. Their son, either still asleep or blinking at him at having been so rudely awoken, still laid in the basket_**.**_ She saw him hesitantly reach one hand inside the basket, appearing to gently stroke the baby, before he quickly looked up again, his head scanning frantically from side to side as he searched for the bearer of this bundle.

"Katniss! Katniss!"

She pinned herself to the wall, closing her eyes as she felt the warmth and the strange prickling at her breast that seemed to happen each time just before her tiny son cried, anticipating his needs.

As he began to cry she screwed her eyes shut, willing herself not to look, not to move. Even with her hands clamped over her ears, she could not ignore it, the cries were becoming more agitated - her baby needed her. She thought of the conversation between Gale and Magnhildr. Dream or not, they had been right, she could not leave him here no matter what retribution Gale would inflict in his anger.

"Katniss," she heard Peeta cry out. "Come back. I can't… your baby needs you. Katniss!"

With a sob she ran forward, the startled Peeta holding out their son to her. Pushing aside her cover, she put her son to her breast. As she felt him latch on, she looked up into Peeta's eyes as she heard her name - just a whisper in disbelief.

Peeta stood there still stunned by the sight of her, but his lips twitched as if of their own accord, threatening to break into a smile. She saw his reaction of relief at first mixed with confusion, as if she could not really be there in front of him. But then she saw the hurt, the hesitancy, and the suspicion, before his face became closed and expressionless. But no matter how guarded his face, he could not hide the emotion in his eyes. She felt relief wash over her as she understood that he would not turn her away, and she felt all the tension and anxiety ebb away at the sense of safety that Peeta's proximity still elicited in her. Her head swam as she felt her energy draining from her as her baby fed. Her body began to shake and her legs gave way beneath her, rapidly growing faint from the physical strain of swimming to shore so soon after enduring childbirth. She was vaguely aware of Peeta's strong arms around her as her eyes closed and she succumbed to both her physical and mental exhaustion.

Yet still she fought it, not able to rest easy until she knew her son was safe. She was unable to trust that upon discovering she had not returned, Gale would not take out the force of his fury on the child she had chosen over him. Before she fainted, she managed to get out one word to convey her fear, a warning she hoped Peeta would both understand and heed.

"Run."

…~…

Peeta stood by the side of the bed looking down at the mother and child as they slept. The babe's hair was as dark as his mother's, but Peeta had seen his eyes. They were as blue as his own. This was his child.

Katniss looked at peace now, but her last word before she collapsed still rang in his head. "Run." Gale had not let her go this time, she had escaped and she obviously feared they were all in danger.

He had carried her lifeless body to his bed and held the infant to her breast so that he could feed, and once he had laid the baby down drowsy and content to snuggle against his mother, Peeta had hurried to the bakery. Silently he had climbed the stairs to the upper floor and opened the door to his brother's room.

Rowan had been asleep next to his wife, their own son sleeping in the crib beside the bed. Kneeling beside his brother Peeta had put a hand to his shoulder and shook him. "Rowan, Rowan," he beseeched with an urgent whisper.

His brother half-opened his bleary eyes with a gruff, sleepy groan. "What?"

"Rowan, wake up," Peeta urged.

"Ugh? God, Peeta, not so close, you smell like the town drunk." He moaned again, rolling over before adding, "Oh wait, what am I saying? You are the town drunk."

"Rowan, this is important." Peeta shook him with more vigor.

"Alright, alright, what do you want?" Rowan said sitting up, and then looking about him at the still darkened room, "What time is it for heaven's sake?"

"Rowan?" Orla sat up, awake now. "Peeta, what are you doing here?"

"I don't think I have much time. It's Katniss, she's here, and I think she's in danger."

He saw the shock and confusion on their faces; he had known they had both believed Katniss to be dead but he had done nothing to contradict their beliefs.

He explained as well as he could without mentioning selkies, knowing there was not enough time to get into arguments about their existence, that Katniss had been held against her will and that she had escaped, appearing at his door with a child. A child which he believed to be his own.

His brother and sister-in-law listened open-mouthed in stunned silence at his story, with only a few well-timed gasps of horror from Orla.

After that Orla had gone into action, grabbing clothes for the baby and Katniss, before rushing over to the room above the barn.

"Peeta," she had exclaimed, seeing the sleeping mother and child. "The bairn is so wee, it can be no more than a few days old."

Rowan, following them into the room, had tripped over the baby's basket which still sat on the floor. Swearing, he bent to pick up the basket and its contents which had been strewn across the floor. He picked up the fleeces, sodden and dripping, and then a small leather drawstring bag. As he did they all clearly heard the clink of coin. Rowan looked up with a questioning raise of his eyebrows, weighing the bag in his large palm as he did so, but Peeta shrugged and shook his head, none the wiser. Rowan loosened the drawstring and tipped the contents on to the table. Silver spilled out across the table top, and plenty of it. Coins of varying size and age, enough for a fare to the Capitol a hundred times over.

"The selkie's silver," Peeta whispered in disbelief.

Orla and his brother had left him alone to wake Katniss, but not before warning him, "You can't afford to let her sleep too long if you mean to get her on that first train."

But he was loath to wake her now that she looked so at rest. She looked like the old Katniss, the one he had loved and not the mutated version she had become – the selkie Katniss. The one that he could not look at without picturing her with Gale.

He swallowed as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, barely covered by his thin sheet. This was the girl who had broken his heart again and again, until there was nothing left of it. The girl whom he'd mourned, but who in turn had repeatedly deceived him with her selkie lover. The girl who had turned him cold and bitter and who he had tried in vain to forget.

He thought of the wretched creature he had found at his door a matter of hours ago. And wondered if he would still have helped her if she had been alone, whether he would have turned her away or whether, as he suspected, that despite everything she had done, he would have still been unable to stop himself from helping her.

But it was irrelevant, she had not been alone. He looked at the tiny infant, so small and defenseless, its little fingers curled in gentle fists with perfect nails amazingly already in need of a trim. The perfect bud of his tiny pout, the little furrow upon his brow, as if already contemplating the great mysteries of the world. A perfect miracle of his and Katniss' making, only in his life for the briefest of time and already melting the edges of his frozen heart. But if she and the child were truly in danger, he could not risk them being there any longer than necessary.

"Katniss," he whispered, shaking her lightly.

Her eyes fluttered and opened to look at him. Giving a gasp she sat upright with a jolt, obviously startled to find herself in his bed_**. **_

"Peeta!" and then her eyes flew to her side, an audible sigh of relief as she saw her child.

"It's alright, he's alright." And then he added quietly, "He's mine, isn't he?"

She nodded, tears brimming, "Yes, he's your son."

"What is his name?"

She shook her head, "I was too scared to name him. I thought that if I didn't give him a name, he wouldn't really be mine, that it would be easier to leave him. But it didn't make any difference, I couldn't go without him."

"It's not that easy to forget someone you love." Peeta said coldly. "Are we in danger?"

"I honestly don't know," she answered shaking her head. "He told me to get rid of the child. He was so angry, he frightened me."

"I think it would be wise for you to get away from here as quickly as you can. We can't risk him coming back for you. Unless that's what you want. Was that what you intended to do, to leave the child with me so that you could return to your lover?"

"No," she shook her head, "No, I can't go back to that life. I could never leave my baby." Peeta wanted to believe her, but she'd lied to him so many times he feared it would be naïve to accept it as the truth. He was also concerned at how happy the news made him, and he worried it would be all too easy to fall in love with her again – if indeed he had ever truly stopped. Instead he changed the subject to the more pressing matter at hand.

"There's an early morning train that brings the mail to the coast. The silver you stole will more than pay for the fare."

"Silver? What silver?"

"The bag of silver in the basket. I presumed you stole it from the selkie."

She shook her head. "Magnhildr, the old one who helped me, she must have put it in the basket."

"Well, there's enough there to get us to the Capitol and take care of us until we get settled."

"We?"

"Did you expect me not to come with you? I thought the whole idea of you leaving the basket on my doorstep was for me to look after my son. Have you changed your mind so soon?" She stared back at him speechless. "What's the matter, don't you want me to come?"

"Yes…no", she stammered, a sob bubbling to the surface. "Of course I want you to come, but I've no right to expect it. It's selfish of me to want you to come with me."

"I'm not doing it for you," Peeta said flatly, and even though he thought he meant it, it still felt like a lie. "Gale took everything else I loved from me, and I've tried to forget, but I'll be damned if I'll let him take my son from me as well. I've no intention of being separated from him. I want us to raise our son as a family. I want us to leave here together, if you'll agree to it?"

She nodded and his fingers twitched instinctively, wanting to reach out and touch her face, but instead he watched the single tear that slipped from her eye slide down her cheek as she whispered, "That's all I've ever wanted, Peeta."

… ~…

They were the only passengers waiting on the platform as the train pulled into the station. The bakery would just be opening up, but most of the town was still asleep.

Orla's dress was far too large for Katniss, but her old boots fit her just fine, and the shawl wrapped round her shoulders and tied across her body kept out the chill of the early morning.

Peeta, with a stick in one hand and the bag that contained their meager possessions in the other, boarded the train first. Putting down the bag, he extended his hand to help her into the carriage, her arms full carrying their son, swaddled warmly in his borrowed clothes and blankets.

She took a seat next to the window as Peeta stuffed the bag into the rack above. When he sat down he turned to her and asked, "May I hold him?"

She smiled and nodded, transferring the warm bundle into his waiting arms. Katniss watched as he gently stroked the sleeping infant's face, the child's mouth opening in his sleep to capture the tip of Peeta's little finger.

"He needs a name. I can't just keep calling him my son."

"I thought perhaps Euan, after my father, the father who raised me. If you like the name, that is," she suggested.

He nodded, "It's a fine name. But I'll admit I'm a little surprised, I thought that you would pick a name of the sea, not of the forest."

"No," she said adamantly, "I want no reminders of the sea." She felt a shiver run down her spine as she turned away to look out of the window. After today, she never wanted to see the ocean again. To swim in rivers, streams and lakes perhaps, but never again in the sea. She wanted no more of that life.

As the train pulled out of the station her thoughts drifted to the tales of human men who tricked selkie women into remaining on land as their wives by hiding their seal pelts so they could not return to their true life in the sea. But Katniss would have gladly cast aside that unwanted second skin to be free of that other side to her life. If she had truly possessed such a sealskin she would have burnt it, ensuring it were destroyed forever, so that there could be no fear she would ever be lulled back to that life. It had consumed her, broken her and molded her as it saw fit, and it had nearly taken everything she held dear from her. Yet she had survived. Peeta, too, though he may still view her with contempt, was alive because of her actions, but she would sooner die than let that life take hold of her again. She would not risk what she had now, nor the life that she hoped could be possible for their small family.

With every passing moment the train left the town, and all the painful memories it held, further and further behind them. But the track still hugged the coast, and the water, with the early morning sun playing upon it, followed them far below.

In the distance, Katniss could see the dark clouds that gathered on the horizon, and the storm that raged there, far out to sea.

* * *

Notes:

Euan means "born of the yew (tree)" – hence Peeta's referral to a name of the forest.

**So happy with that ending? You don't really need an epilogue do you?**


	23. Chapter 23

Okay so here's the real end, sorry to tease you yesterday! I was going to hold off posting this until the weekend but I'm just too excited to have it finished.

Enjoy...

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**Epilogue**

She could hear them coming towards her through the long grass, a small band, their whispers too loud to truly take her by surprise. She even heard them call out to their straggler who had been left behind and who risked ruining the attack.

Katniss could have chosen to stand and run, or crawl away unseen, but she was tired and weary and she wanted the game to be over. So she stayed put and waited for them to take her captive. It was such a beautiful spot to wait for the end.

They had found this place not long after they moved to the capitol, just a short ride in a horse drawn cart to the open fields and meadows that you would never imagine lay just outside the city boundaries. Even in those early days they had been happy when they came here.

She lay looking up at the sky through the long grass, its heads heavy with seed bowing in the wind. She prefers this view - looking up at the heavens. If she were to stand now she knows what she would see. Looking out across the field of green she would see the grass blown by the wind, rolling like waves upon the land, and each time she looks upon the sight she experiences the same pang and longing – a thirst for the sea that no amount of water can quench.

There is a lake a short walk from here, reached through the damp woods. The water there is a strange brown, coloured by the tannin that leeches from the soil around. Peeta says it is like swimming in a cup of tea, but she likes it. There is no mistaking it for the blue of the ocean. Not that Peeta tends to swim much, preferring to sit in the shallows with their daughter on his knee, whilst she and Euan swim.

At seven he is tall and slender for his age, as graceful and as at home in the water as any born of the sea. Sometimes when at play as she chases him through the water, she would feel her heart stop for a moment when she saw the similarities in his movements and his dark looks to another she chased long ago. But then, as he would turn to her with a laugh, she would feel herself breathe easy again as she saw his father's eyes smiling back at her. Her favourite shade of blue, which holds more beauty for her than the deep waters of the ocean ever could.

Even in those early, dark days when they had first arrived in the capitol, it was Peeta's eyes which had given her hope. Even when his words and actions told her there was none, his eyes spoke of something else and told her that she was right to believe there could be love between them again.

The first year had been the hardest.

Peeta was able to buy an apprenticeship with the most skilled and successful pâtissier in the city, from whom he was able to learn his trade. Not just learning how to make the cakes and sweet treats that filled the shop's windows, but to create works of art that adorned the tables of high society and the banquets of the capitol's rich and powerful. Masterpieces carved and sculpted from icing and chocolate, twisted and moulded from burnt sugar, until you would think it were a crime to eat them. Instead one would think that they should be placed in a glass case where all could see them. His skill soon surpassed that of his master and within a few years, with what was left of the silver and a small loan from the bank, Peeta was able to open his own patisserie. But the long hours that his work required, especially that first year, took a toll on what was already a strained relationship between the two of them.

Euan was a colicky baby and would cry for hours, twisted in pain from the cramps in his stomach. And Katniss would find herself in tears, overwhelmed by the helplessness of watching her son in pain with a pure exhaustion that would leave her emotions raw. They were both tired, and the arguments would flare up, easily started by the slightest thing, but always returning to the same resentments. Peeta's failure to trust her, her betrayal of him, her guilt over hurting him and the knowledge that she had found comfort in another's arms, and finally her own resentment that he would not acknowledge at least some gratitude that what she had done had initially been for him.

After those early arguments, he would more often than not storm out, returning in the early hours smelling of alcohol, or sometimes, though she tried to pretend it wasn't true, the scent of another woman's perfume.

But even from the beginning they knew they needed each other. The nightmares which still plagued them both were only kept at bay by the other's presence. The small apartment, borne of not wanting to waste the precious silver on anything grander, that they shared as man and wife although no official ceremony had taken place. Had only one bedroom which they all shared with only enough room for one double bed and a crib. And whilst they would go to sleep curled up as far as possible from each other on opposite sides of the bed, they would wake most mornings tangled in each others' arms. A daily pantomime ensuing, where one of them would pretend to still be asleep whilst the other extricated themselves silently from the embrace. Acknowledgment of their sleeping habits was avoided and not discussed.

But it was about five months after their settlement in the city when she finally snapped. Katniss had tried to keep the peace to an extent, held back from telling the whole truth of her feelings by her guilt at all the pain and hurt that she had caused Peeta. The terrible knowledge that if her child had been born a selkie she would not have returned still hung thick in the air between them. And she was ashamed to admit, that amidst all the tension, she found herself considering that perhaps she would have been happier if she had remained there with Gale than she was here on the land with Peeta.

It had been a bad fight, worse than usual, and they had woken Euan. Katniss was livid, as Euan had been crying all day and had only been asleep for a matter of hours. They screamed at each other, until as usual Peeta stormed out. When he returned he was more drunk than usual. Katniss was awoken by his fumbling attempts to get the key in the lock, cursing each time he failed, until at last he fell through the door to land on his knees. Standing, he stumbled as he tried to remove his clothes. He turned on the bedside lamp, knocking it to its side as he did so, casting a lopsided light on himself. Peeta stood swaying by the side of the bed, casting his unbuttoned shirt to the floor. She watched him through slitted eyes, keeping her breathing calm and even so he would think her still asleep.

The lipstick smeared on the corner of his mouth and neck was clearly visible in the lamplight. When he dropped his trousers and underpants to the ground before reaching for his sleep shorts, she saw the same shade of lipstick encircled his penis. She bit her lips and screwed her eyes shut to stop the hurt and humiliation bubbling to the surface. The man she loved, whom she had hoped would come to love her back the way he once had, could barely pass a few civil hours with her each evening without fighting, and found his pleasure with other women.

She did not sleep that night, but lay awake listening to his drunken snores, rising as early as the dawn light would allow her to see her way around the room.

He woke with a confused groan, and she took some satisfaction in seeing his head was hurting him.

Looking about him Peeta saw the mess of discarded clothes and the lamp still on its side.

"Sorry," he muttered, "I guess I was pretty drunk last night. I hope I wasn't too noisy and didn't wake Euan."

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head, shamefaced.

"So you don't remember crashing around the room, or falling through the door?"

He shook his head again, with a pained expression.

"How about when she got down on her knees and took you in her mouth? Do you remember that? When she sucked you, and you thrust between her red stained lips, do you remember that? Do you Peeta?"

He stared at her in horror that he had been discovered.

"What Peeta? Do you think I am so stupid as to not realise what you do when you leave here? Or did you not care whether I knew or not? Did you want me to know, did you want me to hurt? Well, if that was your intent then you have succeeded. I can't do this any more. I know that I have wronged you and I have hurt you, but I am tired of this never-ending penance and I can't take it any more. I know you don't love me the way you did, and perhaps you are right not to. I am not the girl you fell in love with, but then, you are clearly not the same boy either. I don't know this man you have become, and I'm not sure I care to, frankly. I won't leave the city, and you can still see Euan whenever you want. But I cannot live this way any longer. I cannot continue to pay for my crimes until the end of my days. I promised myself that I would not allow myself to be broken again, yet that is what you seem to want of me. To see me down on my knees and broken, sobbing night after night. But I cannot go on like this. I have split myself in two for you and cast one side away. For what it is worth, I do still love you, but though you obviously don't think it, I am worth more than this."

Katniss turned her back on him to fasten the bag she had packed. She felt his hands on her arms and heard his choked swallow before he spoke.

"You're right. I am not the boy I was any more than you are that girl. And I did want you to suffer as I did. I think you are right, I wanted to see you beg to have me back, to want me as much as I have wanted you. To know that it hurt you not to have what you wanted, to see it slipping away from you, to know I took pleasure in the arms of another. But it was cruel and it was selfish and it has brought me no satisfaction. It hurts me to see how much my harsh words have struck at you. I have become my mother's son, so skilled at belittlement, and I have grown to hate myself more and more each day. I can't make you stay, no more than I can ask you to still love me. But I wish we could start again. Not trying to reclaim the love of a boy and a girl who no longer exist, but perhaps allowing the woman and the man who now stand before each other to discover what it is that finds us in each others' arms each morning. Because I know that the calm I feel in the night is one that can only be found with you. You say you split yourself in two, well, I do not think that I can be truly whole again without you. If you stay, I promise that I will strive to be a better man for you and our son."

Katniss nodded in reply, her throat too tight with tears to speak. And as Euan started to wake she wiped her tears on the back of her hand and crossed the room to pick him up.

As the days continued they tried to bite their tongues when usually they would lash out. She no longer concealed her smiles that she had feared showed weakness when she saw Peeta and Euan together. She no longer tried to fight the love she had for him, afraid to let it grow for fear that it would not be returned. They fell asleep as they woke, cradled in each others' arms to ward off the phantoms that threatened to disturb their slumber.

It did not happen overnight, but the man and woman who shared that small apartment with their son did fall in love with each other once again. Not just an infatuation with an otherworldly girl with a voice that could charm the birds from the sky, nor the flushed innocence of a first love that brought the shocked discovery that someone could make you feel so wanted. But a mutual bond of love and friendship, something based on more than a physical need for each other.

And the day she found his sketchbook hidden away beneath a box on his side of the bed, she knew that he truly loved her again. It was not a new sketchbook, but one Peeta had brought with him when they had left for the capitol. The first pages were filled with scenes of their beach, followed by renderings of the view from the window of their apartment, looking out over the roof tops of the city, the tall spires of the churches and the dark hills in the distance. Then she found the sketches of herself. Though still drawn with the precision and care of the earlier portraits she'd seen of herself, these took on a darkness that made it hard for her to look at them. He had not changed her features, it was still recognizably her, but the shading and the angles he had caught her at made her look inhuman. A dark creature to be despised.

Flicking through the book she found page after page of the same until the last. She lay asleep, her head to the side facing him. She could almost feel the comfort where he had shaded the indent in the soft pillow where her head lay. Her lips slightly parted, the gentle curl of her eye lashes, the strands of hair that fell forward waiting for another's fingers to brush them away - all captured with the same skill as the other drawings, but this had been drawn with something else. She was no longer depicted as the harpy, but instead he had made her look like a thing of beauty. Someone who was loved.

And when they laid together that night wrapped in each others' arms as they did each night waiting for sleep to take them, when he bent his head to kiss her goodnight, she tilted her head up so it was her lips and not her forehead that his mouth found.

Neither of them wanted to be the one to pull away, so they continued. A rediscovery of all that they had missed. His strong muscles, the taste of his skin, the way his hands felt as they moved over her. The way he could make her feel small and delicate yet strong and powerful at the same. And she wanted him as she had never wanted another, not a need that she did not have the strength to fight but a knowledge that this was who she wanted and that he made her the person she wanted to be.

And after, as they shared their whispered confessions of love to each other, they did not try to hide the grins of blissful satisfaction that they wore.

Their daughter, Ceridwen, had been born three years ago, coming to them just as they had thought perhaps it was not possible for them to have another. She was as fair as her father, blond curls that tumbled unruly around her head, refusing to be tamed. She had her father's temperament and would charm the customers in the shop with her smiles and dimples. She reminded Katniss so much of Primrose that it hurt sometimes, and she would catch Ceridwen in her arms and kiss her and hold her tight, telling her she loved her, afraid that she too would be taken from her, until Ceridwen would wriggle free with a giggle, waiting for her mother to chase her.

As Katniss lay amidst the tall grass now, her hand upon her swollen belly, so near to the end, she wonders what the child she carries now will look like. Only a few more weeks and she will know.

With a crash the happy hunters come bursting through the long grasses to capture her. Euan leads the charge, with Peeta stooping low to hide his head in the grasses, holding Ceridwen's hand, the straggler bringing up the rear.

After kisses and tales of their exploration in the long grass, Euan, ever the serious protector, takes his little sister by the hand to search for grasshoppers, disappearing again into the overgrowth. Peeta flops down on his back beside her. Turning his head to look at her, he rests one hand on the crest of her stomach, grinning and raising his eyebrows as the child within responds to his touch with a well-placed kick.

Then rolling to his side, resting on his bent arm, Peeta looks down at her and smiles. Those blue eyes of his telling her even before he opens his mouth to confirm it, "I love you."

**THE END**

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**Notes**:

I wanted a name for their daughter that meant rebirth but couldn't find anything Scottish Celtic or Scandinavian that I liked. So I ended up with a Welsh Celtic one instead. **Ceridwen** is regarded as the Celtic goddess of rebirth, transformation, and inspiration. (I'm not certain 'cause I'm not Welsh, but I'm presuming it's like Cerys so pronounced 'Care y dwen' – but if there are any Welsh speakers out there feel free to correct me.)

Just want to say a massive massive thank you to Katnissinme for betaing this story and her huge input, she's been a total star and this story wouldn't have got completed without her. And also to everyone who left comments, followed, favourited and recommended this story. There was a point when I was writing this when I was totally in a 'what's the point' frame of mind and ready to give up on it. So thank you so much for your reviews the lovely ones and the heated debates they gave me the motivation to keep going. I'm still stunned that I managed to write a story, that anyone could be bothered to read it and stick with it to the end - it ended up a lot longer than I thought it would be. (I hope Count Fagula made it through to the end, you were the first person to follow me and had me squealing with excitement that someone was actually reading my story!)

So that's it from me, I'm going to try to go cold turkey on fanfic and writing (although that doesn't seem to be going very successfully at the moment). Back to lovely boring life for me - now what exciting thing shall I do first today clean the bathroom, vacuum or grocery shopping?


	24. Author Note

Thanks to Ro Nordman who made the brilliant new cover picture for this story. Check out the banner as well a p:/tinyurl Sealskin-banner (take out the spaces).

Sorry if you thought this was an addition to the story, but I have ended up writing again (going cold turkey really didn't go so well I got stuck in the house with sick kids for 2 weeks and got bored!) and the first chapter is ready so I could post it as a bit of a teaser if anyone is interested?


	25. New story

Okay for those of you who are interested I've posted a little bit of my new story. Blood on the grass (working title which might change if I come up with something better).

:/www. Fanfiction s / 9204499 / 1/ Blood-on-the-grass

Not sure when the rest is going to get done so I can't promise regular updates at the moment. But it would be great to hear what you think.


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